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I 


Do you know, Miss Dum, you looked like Diana when 
you stood on that rock ?” — Page 230. 



AT 

BOARDING SCHOOL 

WITH THE 

TUCKER TWINS 


By 

NELL SPEED 

AUTHOR OF “THE MOLLY BROWN SERIES,” ETC. 


WITH FOUR HALF-TONE ILLUSTRATIONS 
BY ARTHUR 0. SCOTT 



NEW YORK 

HURST & COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 



Copyright, 1915, 

BT 

HURST & COMPANY 


< < 
t < < 

i , c 

JUN 23 1915 

©C1.A401481 

K-p f 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. Leaving Home . . *. . ... 5 

II. Enter the Tuckers 23 

III. Gresham 36 

IV. My Roommates 48 

V. Letters 60 

VI. The Foundling 69 

VII. Kitty’s Foster-Father .... 88 


VIII. About Mathematics and Me . . 102 


IX. Football no 

X. Boys 123 

XI. Letters and Several Kinds of 

Fathers 137 

XII. Annie’s Mother 147 

XIII. The Concert 167 

XIV. The Spread 176 

XV. Home for the Holidays . . . . 191 

XVI. A Visit from the Tuckers . . . 201 

XVII. Deer Hunting 210 

XVIII. The Mighty Hunter 227 


3 


4 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XIX. A Visit to Richmond . . . . . 241 

XX. Dinner at Cousin Park’s . . . 259 

XXL The Desperation of Dum . . . 274 

XXII. More Letters 294 

XXIII. Zebedee’s Visit . . . . . . 300 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

“Do you know, Miss Dum, you looked like Diana 

when you stood on that rock ?” . Frontispiece 

They made such a racket that a sad, crooked face 

was poked into the door . . . . .48 

“From mother,” exclaimed the girl, trembling with 
excitement 156 

Dum looked at me aghast. “Page, you here, and 
Dee” ....... ... . 271 



At Boarding School with the 
Tucker Twins. 


CHAPTER I. 

LEAVING home. 

Leaving home to go to boarding school was 
bad enough, but leaving on a damp, cold morn- 
ing before dawn seemed to be about the worst 
thing that could befall a girl of fifteen. I have 
noticed that whatever age you happen to be 
seems to be the age in which hardships are the 
most difficult to bear. 

Anyhow, there I was, only fifteen, facing the 
necessity of saying early morning farewells, the 
first one of all to my comfortable bed, where I 
had slept ofif and on, principally on, for those 
fifteen years. And now I and my bed must part. 

''Day done bus’ed, Miss Page. The doctor 
is stirrin’ an’ you’d better rise an’ shine,” and 
kind old Mammy Susan leaned yearningly over 
5 


6 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


me. “I hate to wake up my lamb. I knowd dis 
day would come when dey'd take you 'way from 
me, but I nebber did think 'twould be 'fo' dawn 
wif all de long day 'head er me to be studyin' 
'bout you. What yo' mammy goin' ter do 'thout 
you, chile?" 

“Well, Mammy, we'll have to grin and bear it. 
I'll be home Christmas, and that isn't so far 
off." I jumped out of bed and pulled my hat- 
tub into the middle of the floor, ready for my 
daily cold sponge bath. Probably I had in- 
herited the habit of the cold bath from my Eng- 
lish grandfather along with the big hat-tub. 

“Law, chile, can't you leave off punishin' yo'- 
self jes' dis onct? You can't be to say dirty, an' 
dis here water is pow'ful cold." 

Mammy and I had had this discussion about 
my cold bath every morning since I had been 
old enough to bathe myself. It was only after 
many battles that she had stopped sneaking 
warm water into my big can. That morning I 
let it pass, although the water was lukewarm. 

“Y'ain't mad wif yo' ole Mammy, is yer, 
honey chile? Looks like I didn't have de heart 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 7 

to plunge my baby lamb into sho’nuf cold water 
on sech a dark chilly day, wif her a-leavin , an’ 
all. ’Tain’t ter say warm now. I jes’ tempered 
it a leetle.” 

“That’s all right, Mammy. ‘God tempers the 
wind to the shorn lamb’ and you, it seems, tem- 
per the water. They say there are lots of bath- 
rooms at Gresham, and I can have the water as 
deep and cold as I want it.” 

“Well, don’t you go drown yo’self in any er 
dem new-fashioned plumbin’ tubs, an’ fer de 
Ian’s sake, Miss Page, don’t you let yo’self be 
drawed down inter none er dem was’e pipes,” 
and Mammy Susan hurried off to bring in the 
all too early breakfast. 

I dressed in my usual haste, putting on my 
nice blue traveling suit, ordered by mail from 
New York. It was quite long, well down to my 
shoe tops, and I felt very stylish and grown-up. 
I had never given any thought to my appear- 
ance, and no one else in my life seemed to have 
except Cousin Sue Lee and Mammy. I don’t 
know just what Cousin Sue thought about me, 
but Mammy thought I was the most beautiful 


8 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


creature in the world and freely told me so. 
That morning as I put on the little black vel- 
vet toque, also purchased by mail, I looked at 
myself very critically in the mirror. 

“Page Allison, are you pretty or not? I, for 
one, think not. You’ve got freckles on your 
nose and your mouth is simply huge. I’d like 
to say something about your eyes to take the con- 
ceit out of you, but they look so like Father’s 
that I’d feel just like I was sassing him if I did. 
Anyhow, I’m glad your hair curls.” 

I had intended to sentimentalize over leaving 
my room and going out into the world, but I 
forgot all about it, and grabbing my ready- 
packed suitcase, also a mail order, I raced down- 
stairs as Mammy Susan rang the breakfast bell. 

Father was already in the dining-room, stand- 
ing with his back to the little wood fire that 
Mammy had kindled to cheer us up with. Mam- 
my always seemed to feel that when we were in 
any distress she must warm us and feed us 
whether we were cold and hungry or not. That 
morning we were neither, but we warmed by 
her fire and tried to choke down a great deal of 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


9 


her batter bread and roe herring to show her we 
appreciated her efforts. 

Father looked up as I came in and for a mo- 
ment regarded me in speechless amazement. 

“Why, honey, you almost took my breath 
away! You look so grown-up in the new dress 
and hat. I didn’t know you were so like your 
Mother, child,” and he drew me to him and 
kissed me. 

Father and I were as a rule not very demon- 
strative, but I clung to him for a moment and 
he held me close with his long, wiry arm. 

“I wish I could take you to Gresham, honey, 
but old Mrs. Purdy is very low and she expects 
me to be with her at the end.” 

“That’s all right, Father, don’t you worry. 
There are certain to be other girls on the train 
who are going to Gresham and I’ll butt in on 
them,” I answered much more bravely than I 
felt. It did seem terribly lonely and forlorn to be 
going off and installing myself in boarding school. 
“I think it’s fine that you can drive me over to 
Milton and put me on the train. Last night when 
I heard such a knocking at the door I was afraid 


10 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


I wouldn’t see you in the morning because you’d 
be off on some life or death mission. What was 
the matter?” 

“Oh, just Sally Winn’s bread pills had given 
out and she was afraid she would not last 
through the night without them.” Father al- 
ways took me into his confidence about the bread 
pills he administered to the hypochondriacs. 

“Do you know, Father, I believe if you charged 
midnight fees for those bread-pill and pink-well- 
water prescriptions, that Sally Winn and some 
more just like her would at least wait until morn- 
ing to die.” 

“Oh, well, little daughter, Sally’s got lots of 
good in her, and trying to die is the only excite- 
ment she has ever had in her whole life.” 

“Well, I won’t begrudge it to her but I do 
hate to have your rest broken. Mammy,” I said 
to Mammy Susan as she came in bearing a plate 
of red-hot flannel cakes, “don’t you let Father 
be too late getting into his heavy underwear; 
and make a row every time he drives the colt un- 
til he will stop it from sheer weariness. And, 
Father, you make Mammy take her tonic; and 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 11 

don’t let her go out in the wet dew waddling 
around after her ducks. She will catch her 
death.” 

“Susan, you hear Miss Page? Don’t dare go 
in anything but dry dew. A few inches on her 
skirt and her curls tucked up under her bonnet 
make her think she’s been taking care of us all 
these years instead of our taking care of her.” 

“Law, ain’t she the spit of her Ma, Doc 
Allison? ’Cep fer yo’ eyes. Ain’t quite so tall; 
but she’s young yit in spite er sich a long trailin’ 
skirt. I’s sorry to be de one to break de news, 
but de colt is out dere a-prancin’ an’ pawin’, an’ 
ef you’s a~goin’ you’d better go.” 

I had often pictured my going away and had 
always seen myself with difficulty restraining 
my tears ; but now the time had come and the colt 
was cutting up, so I forgot to cry even when I 
told the dogs good-by; and just as I was giving 
Mammy Susan a last hug, and if tears were ever 
to come they must hurry, Father called to me to 
jump in, for he couldn’t hold the colt another 
minute. And in I was and away and not crying 


12 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


at all but laughing, as we turned around on one 
wheel and went skimming down the drive. 

The sun was all the way up at last and it 
wasn’t a cold, damp day at all, but promised to 
be fair and clear. We had a six-mile drive to 
the station at Milton and the colt saw to it that 
we got there in plenty of time. 

“Now, Page, be certain when you make the 
change at Richmond, if you have to ask any ques- 
tions to ask them of a man in brass buttons.” 

“Yes, Father,” and I smiled demurely, remem- 
bering how I always acted as courier when we 
went on our trips. Father, being the most ab- 
sent-minded of men except where his profession 
was concerned, was not to be trusted with a rail- 
road ticket. 

Moving away on the train at last and waving 
good-by to his long, sad face, made me realize 
that the knot was cut. What a good father he 
was! How had we ever been able to make up 
our minds to this boarding school scheme? Noth- 
ing but the certainty that my education was a 
very one-sided affair and that I must broaden 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


13 


out a bit had determined Father; and as for me, 
I longed to know some girls. 

I, who yearned for friends, was growing up 
without any. Fifteen years old and I had never 
had a real chum! I couldn't remember my 
mother, but I am sure she would have been my 
chum if she had lived. Mammy Susan did her 
best and so did Father, but a little girl wants 
another little girl. We had neighbors in plenty, 
but our county seemed to be composed of old 
maids and childless widows with a sparse sprin- 
kling of gray-bearded men. 

My mother's people were English and she had 
no relatives on this side of the water. Father 
belonged to a huge family, all of them great vis- 
itors, but so far as I knew, no children among 
them. All kinds of old maids: rich and poor, 
gentle and stern, soft and hard, big and little, 
they all managed once a year to pay their dear 
cousin, Dr. Allison, a visit at Bracken. I did 
not mind their coming. The soft ones seemed to 
have been little girls once, which was something. 
I used to think when I was quite a little thing 
that the hard ones must have been little boys, 


14 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


because of the statement in my Mother Goose 
that little boys were made of “Snaps and snails 
and puppy dog tails,” — not nice soft collie pups’ 
tails, either, but the tight, hard kind that grew 
on Cousin Park Garnett’s pug. 

Cousin Park Garnett was the rich, hard one 
whom I visited in Richmond the winter before. 
On her annual visitation to us she had remarked 
to my father: 

“Cousin James, are Page’s teeth sound? 
White teeth like that are, as a rule, not very 
strong. Her mouth is so enormous you had bet- 
ter look to it that her teeth are preserved,” and 
she pursed up her own thin lips and put on her 
green persimmon expression. 

“Perfectly sound, I think, Cousin Park. Of 
course her teeth must be preserved. As for her 
mouth being big, she’ll grow up to it.” But the 
outcome of the conversation was that I had to 
visit Cousin Park and take in the dentist. Think 
of the combination ! Cousin Park took me to the 
Woman’s Club in the afternoon where we lis- 
tened to a lecture on “The Influence of Slavic 
Literature on the Culture of the Day.” I was 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


15 


longing for the movies but managed to keep my 
big mouth shut and listen to the lecture, so I 
could tell Father about it and make him laugh. 
I stayed in Richmond three days and did not 
speak to one single soul under fifty. Even the 
dentist was old and tottering, so shaky that I was 
afraid he would fall into my mouth. 

I saw loads of nice girls my own age skating 
on the sidewalk or walking arm-in-arm chatter- 
ing away very happily, but Cousin Park didn’t 
know who they were or did know and knew 
nothing to their credit. I was glad to get back 
to Bracken where there were no girls to know. 
There were at least the dogs at Bracken that I 
could talk to and race over the hills with. Even 
Cousin Park could not doubt their royal pedi- 
grees. 

It was dear little Cousin Sue Lee who per- 
suaded Father and me both that I ought to go 
to boarding school. Cousin Sue was the best of 
all Father’s female relatives. She was gentle 
and poor and had a job in the Congressional 
Library in Washington. With all her gentle- 
ness, she was sprightly and had plenty of what 


16 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


Father called “Lee spunk” ; and with all her pov- 
erty, she wore the sweetest clothes and always 
brought me a lovely present every year and a 
nice shawl for Mammy or a black silk waist or 
something or other to delight the old woman’s 
heart. Cousin Park never gave me anything, — 
not that I wanted her to. She would visit us 
two weeks and then present Mammy with a dime, 
using all the pomp and ceremony that a twenty- 
dollar gold piece would have warranted. 

“Jimmy,” Cousin Sue had said one day (she 
was the only one of all the cousins who called 
Father Jimmy), “I know you and Page will think 
I am an interfering old cat, but that child ought 
to go to school. I am not going to say a word 
about her education. She has an excellent edu- 
cation in some things. I have never seen a bet- 
ter read girl of her age. But the time may come 
when she will regret knowing no French, and 
she tells me she stopped arithmetic last year and 
never started algebra.” 

“Well, what good did algebra ever do you or 
me?” quizzed Father. 

“Now, Jimmy, don’t ask such foolish questions. 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 17 

It’s just something all of us have to have. What 
good does your cravat do you? None; it’s not 
even a thing of beauty, but you have to have one 
all the same.” 

“Oh, you women,” laughed Father, “there’s 
no downing you with argument.” 

“But as I was saying,” continued Cousin Sue, 
“it is not dear little Page’s education I am think- 
ing of. It’s something much more important. I 
want her to know a whole lot of girls and make 
a million friends. Why, I’m the only young 
friend the child has, and I am getting to be 
nearer fifty than forty.” 

And so we wrote for catalogues of schools and 
settled on Gresham. And Cousin Sue sent for a 
bolt of nainsook and yards and yards of lace and 
insertion and made up a whole lot of pretty un- 
derclothes for me. 

“Girls need a lot of things in this day and gen- 
eration,” I heard her say to Father. “A great 
deal more than they used to when I was young. 
I am determined Page shall not go off to school 
looking like an 'Orphan Annie.’ ” 

“But, Sue, your holiday won’t do you any good 


18 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


if you spend it all sewing on the machine for 
my child,” objected Father. 

“We’ll get in Miss Pinky Davis to help and 
in a week’s time Page will have enough clothes 
to last her until she gets married, — that is, if she 
does not follow the traditions of the family and 
be an old maid.” 

It was a pretty well known fact that Cousin 
Sue had been a belle in her day, and even now 
when she came back to visit in the County sev- 
eral weather-beaten bachelor farmers would 
manage to have business at Bracken. I have al- 
ways noticed that an old maid who is so from 
choice does not mind joking about it, but the 
others do. 

A country doctor is seldom a bloated bond- 
holder; so Cousin Sue and I ordered, with great 
care and economy, the necessary things from 
New York: suit, hat, gloves, shoes, up-to-date 
shirt waists and plenty of middies, a raincoat, 
umbrella, etc. 

“Now, my dear,” said my sweet cousin, “you 
can be perfectly sure that your outfit is appro- 
priate at least. Your clothes are stylish, well- 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 19 

made and suitable to your age. I have always 
felt that young people's clothes should be so 
right that they do not have to think about them.” 

As I sped away on the train to Richmond, I 
remembered what Cousin Sue had said before 
she went back to the grind in Washington, and 
had a feeling of intense satisfaction that my lit- 
tle trunk in the baggage car held such a complete 
wardrobe that I would not have to bother my 
head about it any more. Up to this summer, 
clothes had been my abomination, but I had at 
last waked up to the fact that it made some dif- 
ference how I looked; and now I was going to 
look all right without any trouble to myself. 

Train pulling into Richmond and still not 
a tear! “What is the matter with you, Page 
Allison? When girls leave their childhood's 
home in books they always weep suds. Don’t 
you love your home as much as a stick of a hero- 
ine in a book?” I knew I loved my home, but 
somehow it was so delightful to be going some- 
where and maybe getting to know a million peo- 
ple, as Cousin Sue said I must. 

An hour's wait in Richmond! I rechecked 


20 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


my trunk, having purchased a ticket to Gresham ; 
then I seated myself to possess my soul in pa- 
tience until the 10.20 train should be called. The 
station in Richmond was familiar enough to me, 
as Father and I took some kind of a trip every 
year and always had to come through Richmond. 
As I have said before, I attended to tickets and 
baggage when I traveled with Father, so I was 
not in the least nervous over doing it now. 

“I must keep my eye open for girls who are 
likely to be going to Gresham,” I thought. 
“They’ll all have on dark blue suits.” That 
was a rule of the school, the dark blue suit. 
“There’s one now ! But can she be going?” And 
I thought of what Cousin Sue had said of “Or- 
phan Annie.” 

The girl was seated opposite me in the waiting 
room. She had just come up the steps lugging 
a huge telescope, stretched to its greatest capac- 
ity, and looking nervously around had sunk on a 
bench. She searched feverishly through a shabby 
little hand-bag she was carrying and having sat- 
isfied herself that the ticket she had just pur- 
chased was safe she seemed to be trying to com- 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


21 


pose herself; but one could see with half an eye 
that she was nervous and frightened. She 
glanced uneasily at the clock every few minutes 
and constantly compared with it an Ingersoll 
watch which each time she had to search for in 
her bag. Several trains were called and every 
time she got up and made a rush for the gates, 
but each time came back to her seat opposite me. 

Her blue dress was evidently homemade. The 
skirt dragged in the back and the jacket was too 
short for the prevailing fashion. Her hat had 
been worn as mourning and still had a little fold 
of crepe around the edge, making a suitable set- 
ting for that tear-stained face. I couldn’t tell 
whether she was pretty or not, her features were 
so swollen with weeping. Helen of Troy herself 
looked homely crying, I am sure. I noticed that 
her throat was milk white and that the thick plait 
of hair that hung down her back, mercifully 
concealing somewhat the crooked seams of the 
ill-made jacket, was as yellow as ripe wheat. 

“Poor thing,” I thought, “I believe I’ll speak 
to her and see if I can cheer her up some.” But 
my philanthropic resolution was forgotten be- 


22 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


cause of the entrance into the waiting room and 
into my life, I am glad to add, of the three most 
delightful and original persons I have ever seen 
or known. 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


23 


CHAPTER II. 
enter the tuckers. 

Two girls about my age and a youngish man 
were the arrivals. The girls were dressed in 
blue serge, and I felt in my bones that they were 
going to Gresham. They had an independent, 
easy way with them, and evidently considered 
the youngish man a person whom they had a 
right to boss. 

“Let’s sit here, Zebedee, and you go get the 
milk chocolate for me,” exclaimed one of the 
girls. 

“Don’t forget my salted peanuts and a copy of 
‘Life,’ ” called the other, as Zebedee hurried 
off to make the purchases at the newsstand in a 
corner of the waiting room. 

“Elder brother,” thought I, “and pretty good- 
natured to wait on those girls so much.” What 
nice looking girls they were, though. At the 
first glance, they looked singularly alike, but as 


24 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


I examined them more closely while Zebedee was 
gone, I saw points of dissimilarity. “They are 
twins, for sure,” I said to myself, “but I believe 
I am going to be able to tell them apart.” The 
one whom her sister called Dum had red lights 
in her almost black hair and her eyes were hazel, 
while the one who answered to the name of Dee 
had blue lights in her coal black hair and her 
eyes were gray. Both of them had sharply defined 
brows, straight noses, and broad, laughing 
mouths. Dum’s chin was square and deter- 
mined, but in Dee’s there lurked a dimple. They 
were exactly the same height and both of them 
had fine athletic figures. 

“There you are, Tweedles,” said the youngish 
man, addressing them both as he pitched his 
purchases into their laps. “Who’s going to wait 
on you at boarding school, I’d like to know?” 

“Well, if you will make us have a roommate, 
I reckon she’ll have to,” laughed Dee. 

“By the way, Zebedee, that is something I 
want to discuss with you,” and Dum squared her 
chin. “You make a great mistake in forcing a 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 25 

roommate on Dee and me. We are not used to 
it, and we are not going to stand it.” 

Zebedee squared his chin, too, and his blue 
eyes took on a stern expression. “Not going to 
stand it, eh? Well, I say you are going to stand 
it. We have discussed the matter threadbare 
already, and you must trust me to know what is 
best for you sometimes.” 

The stern light went out of his eyes and into 
them came a look of infinite tenderness as he 
put an arm around Dum and held her close to 
him. I certainly liked the looks of Zebedee, 
but what a name! He, too, had an athletic fig- 
ure, but not very tall, not much taller than the 
girls, who were very well grown for fifteen. He 
had Dum’s red black hair, also her square chin, 
but Dee’s dimple had found a place in the mid- 
dle of that determined chin. The three mouths 
were so alike that they might have belonged to 
triplets, but his eyes were his own ; ice blue they 
were in color but there was nothing cold about 
them. They were the kindest, merriest eyes; 
they seemed to see everything and feel every- 
thing. Just now they were feeling very sorry for 


26 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


Dum, and as he hugged her, big tears gathered 
in them. 

“Oh, Dum,” exclaimed Dee, “now you have 
made him cry!” 

“No such thing. I’m not crying,” and he 
shamelessly blew his nose. 

I afterwards learned that one of the charac- 
teristics of this delightful trio was that they 
thought there was no more shame in crying than 
laughing. They laughed in church if there was 
anything to laugh at, and cried at a picnic or 
farce-comedy if anything turned up to move 
them to tears. “We don’t bawl,” Dee said to 
me once, “we just leak. It is all a matter of tear 
ducts. We can’t help it any more than you could 
help sneezing if someone shook pepper in your 
face.” 

A train was called. It was not ours, but “Or- 
phan Annie” jumped nervously from her seat. 
She dropped her shabby little hand-bag, which 
she had just opened for the hundredth time to 
make sure her ticket was safe or to compare her 
Ingersoll watch with the clock in the station, and 
the contents of the bag rolled to the floor. I 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


27 


dived to assist her and the person called Zebedee 
did the same. Of course we bumped heads, and 
while we were apologizing, Dum and Dee picked 
up the scattered belongings and returned them to 
the poor, abashed girl. 

“1 just knew you were going to Gresham,” 
said Dee, handing her the much-thumbed ticket, 
“and wondered how long it would take us to get 
to the point of speaking to you.” 

“You are for Gresham, too,” said Dum, turn- 
ing to me. “I have been longing to know you. 
I might have known that old Zebedee would end 
by butting in.” 

Here Zebedee took off his hat and bowed to 
“Orphan Annie” and me as though we were of 
the blood royal, and said with a most engaging 
manner : 

“We had best introduce ourselves and then all 
the conventionalities will be observed. Conven- 
tionality is a mighty important thing for board- 
ing school girls to observe. These are the Tucker 
twins, called Tweedles when you want both of 
them or aren’t particular which one answers. 
This red-headed one is Dum; this blue-headed 


28 AT BOARDING SCHOOL 

one, Dee. They have other official names, but 
somehow I can’t remember them to-day. I am 
Jeffry Tucker, at your service, the father of the 
Heavenly Twins.” 

“Father! You, their father!” I gasped. 

“Certainly. Whose father did you think I 
was?” 

“James’ and John’s,” I answered flippantly. 

“That’s the reason we called him Zebedee,” 
chorused the twins. “You know the old gag: 
‘Who is the father of Zebedee’s children?’ No 
one ever believes he is really a parent.” 

I burst out laughing and so did “Orphan 
Annie.” I was certainly glad to see that she 
could laugh. Already the genial atmosphere that 
surrounded the Tuckers had had its effect on 
her. The drawn expression was leaving her 
countenance and the hearty laugh dispelled the 
mist in her eyes. The knowledge that there were 
some other passengers for Gresham set her mind 
at rest, and she evidently felt relieved. 

“My name is Page Allison.” 

“Daughter of Dr. James Allison of Milton, I 
bet anything,” ventured Mr. Tucker. 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 29 

“Oh, do you know my father ?” I asked joy- 
fully. 

“Of course I do. We are of the same fra- 
ternity. Your eyes are so like his, I came mighty 
near slipping you the grip. He was in the class 
of ’85 and I was in that of ’99, but we have met 
at many fraternity conventions. I am certainly 
glad to know his daughter.” And while he did 
not give me the fraternity grip, he gave me some 
kind of a grip that tingled all the way up to my 
heart. 

“And won’t you tell us your name?” said Dee 
kindly to the other stranger. 

“Annie Pore,” said the girl in a voice singu- 
larly full and rich. “I have never been anywhere 
alone and I am so afraid I’ll miss my train. That 
is the reason I dropped my bag. I am so much 
obliged to all of you for picking up my things.” 

Her timidity seemed to disappear as she real- 
ized she was making friends. As for me, I have 
never known what it was to be timid, and I felt 
at home with the three Tuckers from the mo- 
ment they entered the waiting room; and from 
the time that Mr. Tucker and I bumped heads, 


30 AT BOARDING SCHOOL 

I counted them as the first three on the list of 
the million friends that Cousin Sue said I must 
make. 

“Well, since we are all going to Gresham, sup- 
pose you young ladies hand over your tickets to 
me and I will be courier for the crowd,” said 
Mr. Tucker. 

I gave him my ticket, also my reservation in 
the parlor car. It made no difference how poor 
payments were, Father and I always traveled in 
comfort. “It saves in the end to ride in a clean, 
comfortable coach,” Father declared. “Saves 
wear and tear on clothes and nerves.” 

Annie Pore handed him her rumpled ticket. 

“This is all you have?” he asked. 

“Oh, yes, isn’t that all right?” she entreated. 
“The man at the ticket window assured me it 
was right.” 

“Of course it is all right. Now there are five 
minutes before the train will be called, so if you 
young ladies will excuse me, IT1 run downstairs 
to see that Tweedles’ trunks are safe. By the 
way, have you attended to your luggage?” he 
asked me. “And you ?” turning to Annie Pore. 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 31 

“Thank you, yes,” I answered; but the other 
girl looked piteously at her bursting telescope. 
“I haven’t a trunk,” she said simply. 

I felt mighty sorry for Annie. The Tucker 
twins did, too. I could tell by their eyes. Dee’s 
filled and Dum turned and walked to the steps 
with her father. 

Dee whispered to me as she pretended to show 
me a picture in “Life” : 

“He’s gone to get her a ticket in the parlor 
car. Just like him ! Such a thoughtful Zebedee 
as he is! We mustn’t let him know we are on. 
That would make him raging. He will carry it 
off perfectly naturally, and he is fully capable 
of any deceit to keep Annie Pore from finding 
it out.” 

He had done exactly as Dee said he would do : 
got a chair in the parlor car for “Orphan Annie.” 
Right there I took myself to task for thinking 
of the poor girl as “Orphan Annie,” and I de- 
termined to control my thoughts if possible and 
give her her proper name in my mind. Not that 
Annie Pore sounded much more cheerful than 
the name I had given her. 


32 AT BOARDING SCHOOL 

Our train was called and our kind courier bun- 
dled up bag and baggage and hustled us through 
the gates and into the chair car before Annie 
Pore had time to ask about it ; and then he gave 
the Pullman conductor our tickets and settled us 
and the train started, and the girl never did 
know she was being treated to a privilege her 
ticket did not give her. 

We had a jolly trip and before it was over I 
knew a great deal about the Tuckers, and they, 
in turn, a great deal about me, in fact, about all 
there was to know. It was many a day, how- 
ever, before we broke through Annie Pore’s re- 
serve and learned that she was of English par- 
entage, that her mother had recently died and 
her father had a country store in a lonesome lit- 
tle settlement on the river. No wonder the girl 
was so scary. This was actually her first rail- 
road journey. What traveling she had done had 
been by boat, an occasional trip to Norfolk or 
Richmond when her father went to town to buy 
his stock. 

There was an unmistakable air of breeding 
about her. Her accent was pure and her Eng- 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


33 


lish without flaw. In spite of her timidity, she 
had a certain s avoir faire. For instance, when 
Mr. Tucker announced that we were to have 
lunch with him and ordered the porter to bring 
two tables and put them up, Annie accepted the 
invitation with a quiet grace that many a society 
woman could not have equaled. When she took 
off her ugly hat, disclosing to view a calm white 
forehead with heavy, ripe-wheat hair rippling 
from a part, I had no doubt of the fact that 
Annie Pore, if not already a beauty, was going 
to be one when she grew up. 

It was only a buffet luncheon and there was 
not much on the menu to choose from: baked 
beans, canned soup, potted meats, etc. 

“Not much to eat here,” grumbled Mr. Tucker. 

“Eat what’s put before you, Zebedee, and stop 
grouching,” admonished Dum. 

“Well, it’s a pretty hard state of affairs when 
a fellow wants to give a party and there is noth- 
ing to eat but these canned abominations.” 

“I have a lunch box in my grip,” I ventured; 
“maybe that would help out some.” 

“Trot it out, do !” cried Dee. 


34 AT BOARDING SCHOOL 

And then Annie had the hardihood to untie 
the rope around her telescope and bring out a 
bag of the very best and rosiest wine-sap apples 
I ever tasted. She also produced a box of dough- 
nuts she had made herself which were greeted 
with enthusiasm. My lunch had been put up 
by kind old Mammy Susan, and in her tender- 
ness she had packed in enough to feed a regiment. 

“Fried chicken!” exclaimed Dee, clapping her 
hands. 

“Columbus eggs !” shouted Dum. 

“Not really country ham?” questioned Mr* 
Tucker. “That is too good to be true. You 
must excuse Tweedles and me, but we have been 
living in an apartment and eating in the cafe, 
and some real home food has just about got us 
going. When I asked you young ladies to lunch, 
I did not dream that I would be able to treat 
you so royally.” 

“Look, Zebedee, look! Clover leaf rolls!” 
chorused the twins. 

• “Stop tweedling and look over the menu and 
see what we shall order to supplement with.” 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


35 


Mr. Tucker called it tweedling when the girls 
spoke in chorus as was their habit. 

We decided on cream of tomato soup, iced tea 
and butter, with Neopolitan ice cream to top off 
with. I was certainly glad that, as usual, * 
Mammy Susan had paid no attention to my com- 
mands, and had done her own sweet will in giv- 
ing me enough lunch for half a dozen girls. 

"It’s bes’ to err on de side er plenty, honey 
baby,” the old woman had said when I demurred 
at the size of the lunch boxes. “Even ef you is 
goin’ to a land flowin’ wif milk an’ honey, a few 
rolls to sop in de honey won’t go amiss an’ some 
chicken an’ ham to wash down wif de milk won’t 
hurt none.” 


36 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


CHAPTER III. 

GRESHAM. 

Gresham at last after a very pleasant trip ! We 
had picked up blue-coated girls all along the 
road, and by the time we reached the little town 
on the outskirts of which our school was situ- 
ated, the train seemed to be running over with 
girls. 

“There must be a million of them,” I thought; 
but as Gresham could only accommodate one 
hundred and twenty-five, I was wrong. Some 
of them had mothers or fathers with them, and 
some of them big brothers or sisters. Most of 
them had some one; at least, most of the new 
girls. 

The old pupils hugged and kissed one another 
and all seemed to be glad to get back to school. 
The new girls looked sad and miserable, even 
the ones who had their mothers with them. And 
a few lonesome ones who had brought them- 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


37 


selves, like “Orphan Annie” (there, I slipped 
again and called Annie Pore by that obnoxious 
name!) or me, looked like scared rabbits. I 
wasn’t scared a bit, and when I saw the old girls 
hugging and loving one another, flaunting their 
intimacies, as it were, I said: 

“Don’t you mind, Page Allison. You are go- 
ing to know all of those girls and like a lot of 
them, and a lot of them are going to like you; 
and they are just a few of the million friends 
you are going to make.” 

In the crowded confusion at the little station, 
I was separated from the Tuckers and noticed 
that poor Annie was put in a bus filled with 
Seniors, who looked at her rather askance. Her 
ungainly telescope was piled up with the natty 
suitcases by the driver’s seat, and I saw him 
point at it and wink at the driver of the bus 
where I had found a seat. 

The girls in the bus with me were very kind 
and friendly. There were several mothers along 
and they looked at me cordially, and in a few 
minutes I knew the names of all the passengers 
and they knew mine. By the time the straining 


38 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


horses had pulled the heavy bus through the 
crooked streets of the quaint little town, up and 
down the many hills and finally up the last long 
hill to Gresham School, the whole load of girls 
and mothers had been jolted into an enforced 
intimacy. 

Bracken, my home, was situated in what per- 
sons from the mountains call a flat country but 
which we call rolling, as it is when compared to 
the tidewater counties. So the hills of Gresham 
seemed wonderfully steep to me, and as we pulled 
to the top and stopped in front of the school, and 
I realized we could actually see the mountains, 
I gave voice to a long-drawn “O— h !” of delight. 

We piled out of the bus, and for a moment I 
stood looking at the wonderful view before I 
even noticed the school building. 

“I am so glad you like it,” said a soft voice at 
my side. It belonged to a quiet-looking girl who 
had come up with us. She looked a little older 
than the rest of the girls and certainly was much 
more dignified. “I find if a new pupil notices 
the mountains first, she is pretty apt not to kick* 
because they have dessert only twice a week.! 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 39 

One can’t have everything in this world, and a 
mountain view is more filling in the big end than 
dessert.” 

“It is splendid! You have bee^ here a long 
time?” I asked. 

“Yes, many years; and now I am a pupil 
teacher. This place seems more like home than 
any other in the world to me,” and she took me 
by the arm. “Come on with me, Page. I am go- 
ing to call you Page and I do wish you could call 
me Margaret, but now that I am a near teacher 
I have to be called Miss Sayre. I am going to 
introduce you to Miss Peyton, the principal. 

“Oh, you are kind to me and I am so much 
obliged !” 

“Give the bus driver your trunk check and in 
his good time he will deliver your trunk. Come 
on, so you can get into the office before the rush 
of Seniors.” 

Just then the vehicle with Annie Pore in it, 
looking too forlorn for words, came rattling up. 
Her hat was knocked over one eye and she had 
lost all of the cheerfulness that she had gained on 
the train with the delightful Tuckers. No one 


40 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


had paid any attention to her on the ride, except 
to look her up and down and make whispered 
jokes at her expense. I have found out that girls 
can be the most cruel creatures in the world, just 
from pure thoughtlessness and lack of imagina- 
tion. They don’t know how to “Put yourself in 
his place.” They don’t mean to hurt, but they 
do hurt all the same. I found during the ensu- 
ing year that that same busload of Seniors in- 
cluded many a fine character, but not one of 
them seemed to have imagination enough to 
know what Annie Pore was suffering. 

“Miss Sayre,” I said impulsively, “please take 
this girl with you. I met her on the train and 
she seems so forlorn.” 

“We’ll miss our chance to reach Miss Peyton 
ahead of the others, unless we hurry,” she said, 
looking a little impatient at my request. 

“I’m sorry. I think I ought to wait for her, 
but don’t let me detain you,” and I went for- 
ward to meet poor Annie. 

Of course, Miss Sayre came, too. “I might 
have known that a girl who noticed the moun- 
tains first thing would have character enough to 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


41 


do what she thought was right,” she whispered 
as she followed me. 

“This is Annie Pore, Miss Sayre,” I said, as 
I helped the cramped girl out of her uncomfort- 
ably small quarters. Miss Sayre shook her 
hand cordially and I hoped Annie did not hear 
the titter as one of the Seniors nudged another 
and said in an audible whisper: “Annie Pore, 
poor Orphan Annie.” I hated myself for hav- 
ing had the same thought. 

“Where is your trunk check, Annie? Give it 
to the bus driver,” said Miss Sayre, kindly. 

“I haven’t a trunk,” said Annie faintly, “just 
a telescope.” 

“By their luggage ye shall know them,” said a 
stylish girl who was clambering out of the ve- 
hicle. She spoke in a rasping tone with a nasal 
touch. 

Annie Pore made a ten strike right then and 
there with me and with all of the girls who heard 
what she said, and those girls who did not hear 
it soon heard about it. She drew herself up, no 
longer timid but with what Dum Tucker after- 
wards called “Annie’s stage presence,” and in 


42 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


her singularly clear, full voice, that voice that 
we were all to be so proud of, said: 

“Not by their luggage ye shall know them, but 
by their voices. ,, And with a dignity that a 
sagging skirt and crooked-seamed jacket could 
not lessen, Annie Pore walked to the front of the 
carry-all and demanded from the grinning 
driver her bursting telescope. 

A shout went up from the Seniors. “Annie, 
Annie, ’rah, ’rah, ’rah !” 

“So, Mabel Binks, she got your goat that 
time,” laughed a bright-looking, auburn-haired 
Senior. 

“I don’t know what you mean, Sally Coles. 
Orphan Annie’s remark seemed to me to be 
without point,” and Mabel Binks haughtily de- 
manded a very swell new alligator bag from the 
front seat. 

“Well, if you don’t know that your voice needs 
greasing, it is not for me to break it to you, 
Mabel.” Mabel flounced off, and all her stylish 
clothes, beautifully-hanging skirt, well-cut jacket, 
and jaunty velvet sailor hat, did not give dignity 
to her. 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 43 

Pandemonium reigned as we entered the spa- 
cious hall of the main building. Girls, girls, 
girls! Little and big; fat and thin; pretty and 
plain; laughing and crying; alone and attended, 
they swarmed over everything. 

“We have lost our chance to get first at the 
principal, but I wouldn’t have missed seeing 
Annie Pore take down that common, purse-proud 
Mabel Binks for a million, as poor as I am,” whis- 
pered Miss Sayre. “You girls sit here and wait 
for me, and as soon as there is an opening we’ll 
slip in.” 

“Oh, how could I ever have made up my mind 
to leave my Father and come here?” wailed 
Annie, crumpling up into an ignominious heap, 
all her dignity gone. 

“Now look here, Annie Pore,” I scolded, “any- 
one who could jaw back at a Senior as you did 
just a moment ago has got backbone, and you 
have just got to get a brace on you and cheer up.” 

“Oh, but you are different. You make friends 
so readily. I am so easily embarrassed,” and 
the poor thing wept anew. 

“I don’t make friends a bit more easily than 
you do. I just want to make them, that’s the 


44 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


difference. Haven’t you made friends with me?” 

“Oh, have I really?” 

“Of course you have. Would I be ragging 
you this way if I didn’t consider myself your 
friend? Haven’t you made friends with all three 
of the Tuckers, and now with Miss Sayre?” 

Annie was somewhat consoled and tried to 
take a more cheerful view of life. We had com- 
pletely lost sight of our traveling companions. 
They had evidently been admitted among the 
first to the principal’s office. All of the girls 
who were accompanied by their parents or guar- 
dians were given preference in having their 
rooms assigned them, so that their loved ones 
could see where the daughters were to be placed 
and then take their departure on the outgoing 
trains. 

We were so hidden by the swarming girls, we 
despaired of ever being found again by Miss 
Sayre; but I persuaded Annie that we would 
certainly be placed by bedtime as both of us had 
been registered during the summer; and in the 
meantime, it was rather fun to watch the girls 
and try to guess where they came from and if 
any of them were to be in our classes. 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 45 

Mabel Binks backed up against us, talking to 
an overdressed girl of about nineteen. Both 
were dressed in the latest style. I knew what 
those styles were from the fashion books that 
Cousin Sue Lee had bought when we were plan- 
ning my modest wardrobe. 

“I am thankful to say this is my last year at 
Gresham,” said Mabel. “The place has lost tone 
so. We came up in the bus with a most remark- 
able-looking person. I am sure Mamma would 
not permit me to remain if she knew Miss Pey- 
ton was allowing such ordinary girls to come 
here.” 

Annie Pore’s face was crimson and she looked 
ready to burst into tears, but the overdressed 
girl, whose name, I afterwards learned, was Jo- 
sephine Barr, and who was a thoroughly kindly 
person, remarked: 

“Oh, yes, I heard about that girl. Sally Coles 
tells me she is wonderfully pretty and quite a 
lady, also that she got a yell from the Seniors 
for her quickness in responding to a sally from 
you.” 

I pinched Annie’s arm and whispered : “What 
did I tell you? Two more new friends, Sally 


46 


AT BOAKDING SCHOOL 


Coles and this big girl who has just punctured 
Mabel Bulks’ conceit.” 

“Come along, girls,” and Miss Sayre pushed 
her way to our retreat. “I think we can get 
into the office now. How do you do, Josephine ? 
I am glad to see you back,” and she shook the 
big girl’s hand cordially. “I want to introduce 
you to two new girls and ask you to see that they 
meet the crowd.” 

“All right, Margaret, what you say goes. I 
was a freshy myself once and know how it feels.”’ 
She gave us a cordial grip and assured us we 
must call on her if we needed anything, friendly 
counsel or protection or even soothing syrup. 

“Jo is a fine old girl,” said Miss Sayre, as- 
she hooked one arm in mine and the other in 
Annie Pore’s and drew us into the office. (I 
noticed that she had completely ignored Mabel 
Binks.) “She would fight to the finish for her 
friends. Her clothes are impossible, but we 
mustn’t judge the poor thing by her clothes. 
They’ve got so much money, they don’t know 
what to do with it. I’m real sorry for her.” 

It seemed a queer cause for pity to Annie and 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


47 ’ 


me, but Miss Sayre was introducing us to Miss 
Peyton and we could not ask her why riches 
were to be pitied. I liked Miss Peyton from the 
minute I saw her and I believe she liked me. Her 
countenance was a noble one, her manner frank, 
and her voice sounded like music. 

“I am going to put you into the room with 
some sisters, Page. I hope you will get along 
well together. If everything is not pleasant, 
come directly to me. You are No. 117 in Carter 
Hall. I will see all the girls to-morrow and clas- 
sify them. Miss Sayre, will you please get some- 
one to show Page her room? Now I will talk 
to Annie Pore and assign her her roommate.” 
And Miss Peyton went on quietly with what 
might have been a confusing task, but which she 
managed as calmly as a Napoleon marshaling 
his troops. 

I found my way to 117 Carter Hall with the 
help of an old girl. I was naturally quite in- 
terested to know what the sisters were to be like 
who were to be my roommates for the year. 
The door to 117 was open and I heard sobbing,. 


48 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


CHAPTER IV. 

MY ROOMMATES. 

“Heavens, Pm tired of tears !” I thought as 
my conductor left me with a significant smile. 
“Pm actually damp from all of the weeping go- 
ing on around me.” 

A stormy voice was raised in the room that I 
was about to enter, and I stopped in the hall, 
not knowing just what to do. 

“Now what did I tell you?” said the stormy, 
sobbing voice. “Didn't I tell you all along I was 
going to make myself just as disagreeable as I 
could if you would put someone in with us? 
Aren't we going to be miserable enough without 
you, without having some old stick-in-the-mud 
hoisted on us from the country, to sleep in the 
room with us; and just as like as not want the 
window shut at night ; and rub her chapped face 
all over with mutton-suet? Paugh, I can smell 
it now, the horrid stuff.” 

“Now, Dum, cut it out. You don't even know 



They made such a racket that a sad, crooked face was 
poked into the door . — Page 48. 











* 

























WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


49 


that your roommate gets chapped,” said a whim- 
sical voice. 

“The Tuckers!” I exclaimed, but naturally had 
a delicacy in entering, after what I had heard 
Dum say about a roommate from the country. 
“Could she know that I am the one?” I asked 
myself. 

“Well, how are Dee and I to fight it out the 
way you have brought us up to do if we have 
got some old mutt in here with us? We might 
just as well have left our boxing gloves at 
home.” 

“Oh, Dum, you are making it hard for me,” 
said poor Mr. Tucker. 

“That’s good, I want to make it hard,” sobbed 
the wretched Dum. 

“I have told you over and over that I think 
it best for you and Dee to have to control your- 
selves more, and the only way to do it is to real- 
ize how your tantrums affect other people. You 
are the best old Tweedles in the world, but you 
have no self-control. I am surely sorry for your 
roommate, whoever she may be.” 

“Well,” broke in Dee, “I think it all depends 


50 AT BOARDING SCHOOL 

on who she is. I must say it is some lottery. 
Roommates ought to be carefully chosen; one 
should not just trust to this grab-bag method." 

“Well, how do you know Miss Peyton has not 
chosen someone she’feels will be suitable? I wish 
it would turn out to be somebody like the little 
girl on the train. Don't you, Tweedles?” 

“Yes, yes!" tweedled Tweedles. “But no such 
luck." 

This reassured me and I knocked on the open 
door. There was perfect silence, broken only 
by the sound of Dum’s blowing her nose and 
Mr. Tucker's clearing his throat; and then a 
faint little “Come in," from both girls. 

“Oh, it's you! How good of you to come look 
us up!" exclaimed Mr. Tucker. “We were afraid 
it was the hated roommate. Tweedles are treats 
ing me so terribly because I insist on their hav- 
ing a roommate so they can broaden out a bit 
and learn to control themselves some, which they 
will never do so long as they stay together all 
the time. I'll leave it to you, Miss Page, don't 
you think it will be best?" 

“Well, I have a delicacy in saying," laughed I. 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


51 


“ You see, I am that poor unfortunate, despised 
roommate. This is 117 Carter Hall, isn't it?” 

Then all the weeping was turned to laughter 
and the irrepressible Tuckers, father and all, 
grabbed hands and danced around me singing, 
“Gayly cheer the bride.” They made such a 
racket that a sad, crooked face was poked into 
the door, evidently feeling a duty to admonish, 
but Zebedee in his most Zebedeeish humor, sang 
out in a friendly voice: 

“Will you, won't you, will you, won’t you, will 
you join the dance? Will you, won't you, will 
you, won't you, won't you join the dance?” 

Then the strangest thing happened to that 
long, sad, crooked face. The plain features were 
illuminated by a smile, the person who owned the 
face came impulsively into the room, and after 
she had carefully shut the door, she caught hold 
of hands with the crazy trio and the dance went 
on; and all of us sang: 

“ 'Will you walk a little faster !' said a whiting 
to a snail, 

'There's a porpoise close behind us and he's 
treading on my tail. 


52 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all 
advance ! 

They are waiting on the shingle — will you come 
and join the dance?’ ” 

Then the chorus : “Will you, won’t you, will 
you, won’t you, will you join the dance?” 

I refused to play “frog in the middle” any 
longer and broke into the dance, soon dropping 
into the unfamiliar tune but very familiar words 
of the Lobster Quadrille. We sang all four of 
the verses from that immortal nonsense. 

“What matters it how far we go?’ his scaly 
friend replied, 

‘There is another shore, you know, upon the 
other side. 

The farther off from England, the nearer is to 
France. 

Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and 
join the dance.’ ” 

The owner of the long, sad, crooked face was 
also owner of a singularly clear, true, well- 
trained voice, and Mr. Tucker’s fresh baritone 
fitted in finely, while Dum and Dee and I did the 
best we could with what Nature had seen fit to 
endow us in the way of voices. Finally we girls 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 53 

sank exhausted on the bare, uncovered beds, but 
Mr. Tucker and the mysterious visitor stood 
clasping hands. 

“Jeff Tucker, what in Heaven’s name are you 
doing at a young ladies’ boarding school?” 

“Entering my girls: Tweedles. And you, 
Jinny Cox, what are you doing here?” And Mr. 
Tucker kept on shaking her hand. 

“I teach singing here. Have been here for 
years. And to think of your girls being old 
enough to go to boarding school ! It seems only 
yesterday that you and dear little Virginia were 
leading the germans at the University. I haven’t 
seen you since you married. I meant to write 
you when Virginia died, but somehow I just 
couldn’t.” 

“That was all right, Jinny. I knew how you 
felt without hearing from you. She only lived a 
year, you know. Tweedles were just a few weeks 
old when she died.” And the dear man who a 
moment before had been so cheerily singing the 
Lobster Quadrille, now wiped his eyes and 
seemed given over to melancholy. 

“I want you to know our girls. This is Vir- 


54 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


ginia,” indicating Dum, “and this, Caroline,” 
meaning Dee. I was rather amused at the fact 
that earlier in the day he could not remember 
their official names, as he called them. “I named 
this one Virginia, thinking she was going to 
have her mother’s eyes, but the little monkey 
changed them on me and in a twinkling turned 
herself into a hazel-eyed monster,” and poor 
Zebedee forgot to cry any more and began to 
laugh. “This is the much dreaded roommate, 
Miss Page Allison, of Milton, Virginia. The 
wild orgy which you so tactfully joined was in 
honor of the discovery that this young lady was 
the roommate.” 

“Well, girls, I am glad to see all of you and 
hope we can be great friends. My name is Jane 
Cox. I can’t remember any one having the hard- 
ihood to call me Jinny for some sixteen or sev- 
enteen years. I haven’t danced for at least ten 
years. I don’t know what the management or 
the girls would think or say if they knew I had 
cut up this way. I don’t know what made me 
do it. I came to the door to stop the racket 
and when I saw Jeff Tucker whirling around 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


55 


with three girls singing, ‘Will you, won't you, 
won’t you, will you, will you join the dance?' 
my discretion flew to the four winds. I just did 
have sense enough left to shut the door. I for- 
got I was an old maid, teaching singing in a 
boarding school." 

“It was simply splendid of you to come in and 
help us out," exclaimed Dee. Dee was usually 
the one who knew what to say and when to say 
it. Some persons call it tact, but I have always 
thought it was just a kind heart that made her 
know what people wanted her to say. Cousin 
Sue Lee was the same kind of natural-born so- 
cial wonder. “I think your voice is beautiful, 
and how on earth did you happen to know our 
tune?" 

“Why, child, your father and I made up that 
tune on a picnic once years before you were 
born. Do you remember, Jeff, when we went to 
Monticello, and how it rained? We composed 
the tune and improvised a Lobster Quadrille to 
cheer up the bedraggled crowd. How Virginia 
did laugh! I haven't thought of that tune for 
ages. Perhaps it is because I have not been 


56 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


with the kind of people who would enjoy ‘Alice 
in Wonderland.’ ” 

“Zebedee has put us to sleep with it ever since 
we were born/’ said Dum. “I mean the tune.” 

“And I have been reading Alice in Wonder- 
land ever since I was born/’ I ventured. 

“Well, I’m certainly glad to meet some kin- 
dred spirits at Gresham,” said Miss Cox, “and 
now, girls, I’m going to ask a great favor of the 
three of you. I want you to keep to yourselves 
that I broke loose as I did. I have hard enough 
work as it is keeping order during study hour 
when that task falls to me, and if the girls ever 
found out that I was capable of such high- jinks, 
I’d lose all control of them.” We promised, but 
I, for one, thought that the more human you find 
your pastors and masters to be, the more apt 
you are to want to make things easy for them. 
Miss Jane Cox was much older than I, but she 
had yet to learn that wisdom. 

“We’ll all promise,” we declared in unison. 

“But please break loose again, sometimes, 
Jinny,” begged Mr. Tucker. “The idea of your 
calling yourself an old maid! I bet you are not 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 57 

thirty-five yet. I’m only thirty-six myself, and, 
goodness knows, I am nothing but a kid !” 

“Teaching is a very aging occupation,” sighed 
Miss Cox. “I don’t mind the singing, but it’s 
teaching mathematics to the backward pupils 
that adds ten years a season to my already full 
years. Do your girls sing, Jeffry ?” 

“Not so’s you can notice it. Dum, here, is 
going to be a great sculptor; and Dee is uncer- 
tain whether she wants to be a trained nurse or 
a veterinary surgeon.” 

“Vet’rinary surgeon? Surely you wouldn’t 
let her go into such a profession?” exclaimed 
Miss Cox with her twisted smile. 

“Why not? I’ll let my girls go into any pro- 
fession that appeals to them. Dum loves to 
make mud pies and Dee loves to nurse sick pup- 
pies. Both of them rather dirty arts, but 'Every 
man to his taste.’ ” 

Miss Cox had to leave us and go to attend to 
various duties, but before going she assured Mr. 
Tucker that she would take especial care of all 
three of his girls. You can fancy what it meant 
to me to be included. I almost called him Zebe- 


58 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


dee, but I was afraid it might make him feel like 
the father of triplets, so I refrained. 

It was almost time for the train which Mr. 
Tucker was to catch, as he intended to take a 
sleeper back to Richmond that night. I felt the 
tactful thing for me to do would be to leave the 
girls alone with their father, so I told him good- 
by and went off to see how Annie Pore was 
faring. 

I found her sitting in a forlorn heap in one 
of the neighboring rooms, her hat and jacket 
still on; her disreputable telescope in the middle 
of the room; and the expression on her face 
suited to the tragic muse. 

“Who’s your cellmate, Annie?” said I, burst- 
ing in on her. 

“I don’t know, but I know she will hate me.” 

“Hate you, indeed! No one could hate you. 
Why don’t you unpack and get your things in 
order? I am going to stay with you until Mr. 
Tucker leaves, so Tweedles can get a chance to 
be alone with him for a while. I am rooming 
with them, you know. Our room is quite near 
you and we can all be real chummy.” 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 59 

The rooms were all perfectly bare and bleak- 
looking : white walls, white iron beds, curtainless 
windows and carpetless floors. The pupils were 
supposed to decorate their own rooms if they 
wanted them decorated. Annie Pore had been 
put into a two-girl room a bit smaller than the 
one assigned to the Tuckers and me, but other- 
wise exactly like it. 

“I am dreading a roommate,” sighed the girl. 
“I have never slept in the room with any one 
in my life. ,> 

“Neither have I, but I am crazy about it. Just 
think what fun it will be to have some one to 
talk to and giggle with.” 

I could not fancy giggling with Annie Pore 
in her present melancholy frame of mind, but I 
was sure that was a phase that would pass and 
she would end by being as girlish as the next. 
She had too keen a sense of humor to be lost in 
gloom forever. 


60 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


CHAPTER V. 

LETTERS. 

From Caroline Tucker to her father, Jeffry 
Tucker. 


Gresham, Sept. 18, 19 — . 

Dearest Zebedee: 

You would have to be your own daughter to 
know how much you can be missed. After you 
left the other day, Dum and I cried so much we 
came mighty near getting sick, but Page Allison 
came back and was so ridiculous in her descrip- 
tion of Annie Pore sitting up in the bus full of 
Seniors with her crepe hat cocked on one side, 
that we got to laughing ; and you know how easy 
it is to be cheerful if someone only starts the ball 
a-rolling. Page is splendid and takes the most 
interest in life of anybody I ever saw. She 
makes a lot of fun, but somehow it is never at 
anyone but always with them. She loves dogs, 
too, so I am sure to get on with her. 

I do think it was wise in you, dearest Zebedee, 
to make us have a roommate, since that room- 
mate happens to be Page, because she certainly 
does do us good ; and already I find I am trying 
to “exert more self-control,” as you say when 
you are trying to be Mr. Tuckerish. She hates 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


61 


blubbering and never cries except when the dogs 
die or her father reads poetry to her. I tell her 
that we don't usually cry, either, that is, we don't 
bawl, but just leak a bit. She says just leaking 
is rather fascinating and shows temperament, 
and she wishes she wasn't so dry-eyed and could 
express her emotions in such a graceful way. 

Page has read a whole lot and knows reams 
and quires of history, but never has studied any 
French at all and has to go with the kids in 
mathematics. She is real spunky about it, 
though, and doesn't say a word about how hu- 
miliating it must be to have to sit in a class with 
children of twelve and even younger. 

She can write Latin like a house afire, but 
when she translates we can hardly keep from 
giggling outright, as she uses the funny old pro- 
nunciation that Grandpa Tucker does. It seems 
she has learned Latin entirely from her father. 
Miss Sears, the Latin teacher, is trying to get 
her out of this pronunciation, but she compli- 
ments her very much on her knowledge of Eng- 
lish derivatives. Page says that is the side of 
Latin that interested her father and he conse- 
quently taught it to her. 

Dum and I have had only one serious set-to 
since you left us. I licked her. I wish you 
would send Dum a dollar box of plasticine. She 
is restless sometimes and I know she is itching 
to create, and if she had the mud she could do 
it. Dum is being awfully good about holding on 
to herself, and is just as nice and polite to Page 
as can be, although she did vow and declare that 


62 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


she was going to make it so hot for any room- 
mate we got that the poor thing would have to 
leave. Of course that was before we knew it 
was going to be our luck to draw such a prize. 
There’s the bell, so good-by, dear old Zebedeed- 
lums. 

Your own Tweedledeelums. 

Virginia Tucker to her father, Jeffry Tucker. 

Gresham, Sept. 19, 19 — . 

My darling Zebedee: 

Dee wrote yesterday so I waited until to-day, 
although she declared she was not writing the 
kind of thing to you that I was going to. I don’t 
see how she knew what I was going to write 
when I don’t know myself. 

There is one thing I want to say and that is : 
“the old man always knows best.” A roommate 
is a great institution when she is as bully as 
Page Allison. I was awfully afraid Dee was 
going to be rude, but she hasn’t been a bit. As 
for me, I have been a little tin angel. You can 
ask Dee if I haven’t. 

I am mighty sorry for Dee. She not only 
misses you just as much as I do, but she misses 
old Brindle almost as much as she does you. I 
don’t see why they won’t let a bulldog go to 
boarding school. I asked Dee if she gave you 
any more directions about how to take care of 
Brindle, and she said she hadn’t even mentioned 
him she was so afraid of splashing on her letter. 

Your friend Miss Cox has been in to see us 
and was just as jolly as could be, but when the 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


63 


other girls are around she treats us like perfect 
strangers. The truth of the matter is she is 
afraid of girls and does not understand them, 
nor do they understand her. I got that from 
Page, who is very analytical. Page says if she 
would let herself go she would be the most popu- 
lar teacher in school, but as it is, while she is 
not unpopular, she is not regarded at all. She 
is awfully interesting but the girls don’t know it. 
They know she has a good voice and teaches 
with good method but she might as well be a pho- 
nograph for all the human interest they have 
in her. She is coach for the backward and way- 
ward in Math. I believe Page Allison will have 
to have her, and I bet on Page for drawing her 
out. 

I tell you that girl has done wonders with 
Annie Pore. Every time she finds her crying 
she makes her laugh, and you know no one but 
old Zebedee can laugh and cry at the same time 
without going into hysterics. Right to her face 
she calls her “Melancholy Dane” and “Old Rain 
in the Face” and all kinds of ridiculous names, 
and Annie simply has to smile. There is one 
thing about Page: you can always know she is 
going to say what she’s got to say right to your 
face. Usually when people are that way their 
conversation is “yea, yea, and nay, nay,” but 
Page is not that way a bit. 

Dee and I have had only one bout and then 
Dee knocked me out. It was a funny thing the 
way I let down my guard, but I got to thinking 
about Dee’s dimple in her chin and how some 


64 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


day I was going to make a stunning bust of her. 
You see Dee looks mighty handsome when she 
boxes, with her head thrown back, her neck like 
a column. I had sure got her going that day 
and she had backed way up in the corner, when 
the idea of making the bust took possession of 
me — well, Dee made a stunning bust of me, 
that’s all. She tapped me on the nose and drew 
the claret. 

The row was all about you. Dee said you 
must be pretty near middle-aged and I said she 
was all the way a plumb idiot, you were no such 
thing and never would be. The fact that she 
tapped me does not prove that you are or ever 
will be any such thing. Page came in at the cru- 
cial moment and was somewhat shocked to see us 
boxing, and was broken up over the gore; but 
when she heard what the row was about, she 
sympathized with me and offered to put on the 
gloves and fight it out with Dee; but she de- 
cided in her amusing way to argue it out instead. 

She said: “If the pen is mightier than the 
sword, surely the tongue is mightier than a pair 
of boxing gloves/’ She proved to Dee’s per- 
fect satisfaction that age was a matter of tem- 
perament and that yours was eternal youth. Dee 
was convinced and offered the amende honor - 
able , confessing herself beaten in argument. I 
begin to think trial by combat not such a good 
way of settling things, after all. It seems to me 
a quiet debate is much the better way. 

Write to us soon. I heard one of the Seniors 
say you were the most attractive-looking man 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


65 


she ever saw. She thought you were our big 
brother and meant for me to hear it and of 
course wanted me to repeat it to you. Good-by, 
my darling old Zebedeedidlums. I am sorry 
I made you cry twice on the day you brought 
us up here. 

Your own, 

Dumplingdeedledums. 

Annie Pore to her Father, Mr. Arthur Pore, 
Price’s Landing, Va. 

Gresham, Sept. 19, 19 — . 

My dear Father: 

I am writing to you at my earliest opportun- 
ity. I made the journey without any mishaps 
and in great comfort. I was astonished to find 
how luxurious traveling by rail is. I shall have 
to confess to you that I talked to some persons 
I met on the train. They were all of them go- 
ing to Gresham and were very kind to me. I 
found myself conversing with them before I re- 
membered your admonitions to be very careful 
about making acquaintances. I know in Eng- 
land it is very bad form, but I felt somehow it 
would have been much worse form to hold my- 
self aloof when they were one and all so kind 
to me. 

The Institute of Gresham is admirable in 
every particular. My instruction has been so 
thorough, thanks to your unceasing efforts, that 
I find I can take a very good stand. I have 
not divulged that an Oxford graduate has been 


66 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


my teacher. I am well up in Algebra, Latin and 
French, although my French accent is not all 
that it should be. 

Miss Cox, the singing teacher, takes a great 
interest in my voice but evidently has no per- 
sonal feeling for me. I am very grateful to 
you for the sacrifices you have made to send me 
to boarding school, and am endeavoring to take 
advantage of every opportunity to perfect my 
education. 

Very respectfully, 

Annie de Vere Pore. 

Page Allison to her father, Dr. James Allison, 
Milton, Va. 

'Gresham, Sept. 19, 19 — . 

My dear old Father: 

I can hardly believe it is only a few days since 
I left Bracken. It seems ages and eons. I have 
a million things to tell you. I made friends with 
some delightful people on the train, Mr. Jeffry 
Tucker and his twin daughters, Dum and Dee. 
Mr. Tucker says he knows you; and my eyes 
were so like yours he came mighty near giving 
me the fraternity grip. He is the youngest man 
to be grown up and have almost grown-up 
daughters I ever saw. Their mother is dead, 
too. So many mothers seem to be dead. 

We made friends with another girl on the 
train, Annie Pore from Price's Landing. She 
had never been on the train before, but although 
she seemed terribly shy and was dressed in a 
most pathetic get-up, still she had all the bear- 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


67 


ing and carriage of a grande dame. She is a 
half-orphan, too, and I have a kind of idea that 
her father is not to say so intimate with his 
daughter as some other fathers who shall be 
nameless. She has been writing to her paternal 
parent for the last hour, and she actually copied 
the letter and seemed to be writing with as much 
care as though it had to be handed in. You 
don’t want me to write that way to you, do you ? 

Gresham is splendid. It is a beautiful build- 
ing, red brick with great white columns, giving 
it the look of a modern Parthenon. It is on top 
of a hill overlooking the little town and has a 
beautiful lawn with great chestnut trees and 
oaks. But best of all is the view of the moun- 
tains. When it is clear they seem quite close, 
almost as though we could walk to them, and at 
other times they disappear altogether. 

The first day or two the girls seemed to think 
if they did not do a lot of bawling and blubber- 
ing some one might think they did not love their 
homes. Some of them cried because they could 
not help it, but some of them, I verily believe, 
rubbed onions in their eyes like the heartless sis- 
ters in “Beauty and the Beast.” I know no home 
could be more beautiful than Bracken and I’ll 
wager anything that there isn’t a dad in the 
world better or more beloved than mine. And 
was there ever a mammy like mine? I’m not 
even mentioning the dogs, although they are not 
the least of my blessings. And still, not a visible 
tear have I shed. 

The first morning when I waked up in the 


68 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


strange room and stared at the blank bare wall, 
it seemed to me as though I simply could not 
stand it. I was dreaming about Mammy Susan. 
I thought she was pouring hot water into my 
tub again. My roommates were still asleep, 
having wept themselves into a state of coma. 
(I haven’t told you that I am rooming with Dum 
and Dee Tucker and I like it a lot.) Well, I 
got up and went to the bathroom and had the 
coldest bath I ever had in my life and then I 
dressed in a hurry. I felt as though I must get 
out before any one saw me. If I could have a 
little run, maybe I could stave off the great wave 
of homesickness that was going to swallow me 
up in a minute. I raced along the corridor. 

I got onto a covered walk connecting the dor- 
mitory with the main building, and there serene 
and beautiful were the mountains stretched be- 
fore me. I didn’t want to cry any more. A feel- 
ing of deep peace and happiness came to me. I 
chanted aloud: “I will look unto the hills from 
whence cometh my help,” etc. You mustn’t think 
I don’t love you and Mammy Susan just as much 
as ever, for I do; but I am having a good time 
and am going to learn a few things, and am go- 
ing to make loads and loads of friends. 

My love to all the dear dogs and please give 
them an extra bone for me. And tell dear 
Mammy Susan that all of us on the train would 
have starved to death if she hadn’t put up all 
that good lunch. I’ll tell you about what I am 
studying in my next letter. Good-by, 

Your own Page. 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


69 


CHAPTER VI. 
the: toundung. 

^Well, Miss Peyton is some mobilizer,” sighed 
Dee as she snuggled down in her bed after our 
first study hall had been lived through at 
Gresham. “Just to think, here we are hard at 
work when we have been here only two days.” 

‘Well, Pm glad, for one,” said Dum. “If they 
work us hard enough, we won’t get Zebedee-sick. 
That’s what Dee and I call homesick. Wher- 
ever Zebedee is, is home for us.” 

“My Father and Bracken and Mammy Susan 
and the dogs are so mixed up in my mind that 
I can’t tell what or which or whom I miss most,” 
and I scrambled into bed in a great hurry just 
as the bell rang to warn us that lights must be 
out in five minutes. I had not been twenty-four 
hours with other girls before I had learned many 
things that girls know. One of them was that 
the last one up has the chores to do, such as rais- 


70 AT BOAEDINGr SCHOOL 

in g the window at the bottom and pulling it 
down at the top, a mighty chilly performance 
when clothed in nothing but a nightgown ; also, 
the tardy one has the light to put out. 

“Oh, you foxy creatures !" cried Dum. “I bet 
you haven't cleaned your teeth, you’ve been in 
such a hurry to beat me to bed." 

“ 'Deed we have," we declared, “while you 
were calling on Annie Pore." 

“You haven't said your prayers, then," per- 
sisted Dum. 

“I have," I said. But Dee had neglected this 
means of grace and had to crawl out of her nice, 
warm bed; and she and Dum knelt together. 
There was silence for about three minutes ; then 
Dum bounced into bed and pulled the covers up 
to her square chin. There she lay, with eyes 
closed. 

“Dum Tucker, you skipped something. I don't 
believe you said a single thing but ‘Nowllay- 
me,' " and Dee stood over her sister like an 
avenging angel. 

“What's it to you?" yawned Dum. “That's a 
matter between me and my conscience. Open 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 71 

the window; and turn out the light; and crawl 
into bed before our room gets reported.” 

“Well, it was a matter between my conscience 
and me whether I said my prayers at all; and 
you went and butt in on us. Now you take that 
toploftical stand about you and your conscience ! 
Well, you and your conscience can just lie on 
the floor together.” With which tirade, Dee 
yanked Dum and all her bed clothes out on the 
floor. She then whisked off the light and, quick- 
ly raising the window, jumped into bed. 

I wondered what would be the outcome of this 
battle and if it would have to be settled accord- 
ing to the Tuckers’ code of honor: a duel with 
boxing gloves. But just then there was a sharp 
rap on the door. 

“Less noise, please,” said a determined voice 
outside, “or I shall have to report 117 to the 
principal.” 

Dum lay on the floor convulsed with giggles. 
“Sh-h — ,” I warned. “Be careful, or we’ll all 
Have to write pages from the dictionary for two 
hours.” 


72 


AT BOAEDING SCHOOL 


“You won’t have to, surely, when Dum and I 
made all the racket,” whispered Dee. 

“The teacher said ‘117/ and that means me, 
too. Can you get back into bed? Is the foot 
untucked ?” 

“I believe I can if I don’t start giggling 
again,” and Dum began to squirm out of the 
covers. 

“Let me help,” said the penitent Dee, and 
Dum was soon back in her cot and silence 
reigned supreme. After a while I heard Dum 
whisper : 

“Say, Dee, I did skip. Conscience bids me con- 
fess to thee.” 

“Well, Dum, I’ll give it to you that you and 
your conscience are perfect gentlemen,” said 
Dee admiringly. 

“Thanks awfully,” yawned Dum. “I know 
one thing, I’m a mighty sleepy gentleman;” and 
in a trice the quiet breathing from the disheveled 
bed told that Dum and her conscience were at 
rest. 

There were constant surprises in store for one 
who shared a room with the Tucker twins. They 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


73 


certainly had the gift of infinite variety in the 
kind of scrapes they could get themselves into. 
They usually got out of scrapes as easily as they 
got into them by a certain frankness and direct- 
ness that would disarm Miss Peyton herself. 
They didn't break rules, because they did things 
that nobody had ever thought of making rules 
about. The principal at Gresham was not so 
farseeing as the teacher in “Mary Had a Little 
Lamb," who seems to have made a rule about 
lambs in school: 

It followed her to school one day, 

Which was against the rule. 

It made the children laugh and play 
To see a lamb in school. 

One day when we were taking a sedate walk, 
the school out in full force with two teachers to 
keep order along the blue-coated, black-hatted 
lines, we saw by the roadside a little kitten, so 
young its eyes were hardly open. 

“Poor little foundling!" “I wonder where it 
came from !" “I’d like to pick him up !" ejaculated 
several of the girls, but Dee Tucker was the one 


74 


AT BOAKDING SCHOOL 


who acted. She was bringing up the rear with 
Miss Sears, the Latin teacher. As they were 
passing the forlorn little feline, Miss Sears 
stepped forward to admonish a couple who were 
talking too loudly. Dee stooped and quickly 
scooped into her muff the poor pussy. No one 
saw her and kitty very considerately said noth- 
ing. He lay there warm and contented, dream- 
ing he was back with his soft, loving mother, 
and forgetting the rude hand that had put him 
into a bag with his brothers and sisters. The 
bag had had a merciful hole, and he, being the 
runt of the family, had fallen through before the 
proposed drowning came off. 

We marched on, all unconscious of the addi- 
tion to our ranks. When we got back to school 
and went up to our room to take off our hats, 
etc., I noticed that Dee had very shining eyes 
and her dimple seemed to be deeper, but she did 
not divulge to Dum and me what she had up her 
sleeve, or rather her muff. I also noticed at sup- 
per that she swiped some bread and very adroit- 
ly concealed it in her middy blouse. She also 
very cleverly called the attention of every one 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


75 


at our table to the autumn moon, that was peep- 
ing into the dining room window, and while they 
were looking the other way, she filled a little vial 
with milk from her glass. 

Naturally I said nothing, but adopted the 
watchful, waiting attitude, certain that sooner 
or later I’d find out what Dee was up to. And 
I did, all right. 

After supper we had an hour before study hall 
which we usually spent in the gymnasium danc- 
ing. Dum and Dee had undertaken to teach An- 
nie Pore and me the new dances. All dances were 
new to poor Annie and me. I could cut the pigeon 
wing and dance “Goin' to Church,” which is a ne- 
gro classic (but the Tango and Maxixe with all of 
the intricate steps and side-stepping seemed very 
difficult. But I must learn, and learn I did. As 
for Annie, her sense of rhythm was so great that 
she took to dancing as a duck does to water. 
She had to get over a certain self-consciousness 
that was her ruling fault, but when the Victrola 
was started in one of the tunes that would make 
a dead darkey want to get up and pat, why, 
Annie would forget all about Annie and her ill- 


76 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


fitting clothes and would sway to the music wjtlr 
the utmost abandon. 

I believe I have forgotten to tell whom Annie 
got for a roommate. It was none other than 
Josephine Barr, the good-natured, dressy Senior, 
for whom Miss Sayre felt so sorry because of 
her great wealth. I fancy Jo, as we soon called 
her, was not very well pleased at first at having 
to share a room with such a seemingly dismal 
person ; but it was either Annie or Mabel Binks, 
as all the other rooms were filled and Jo had not 
registered in time to have much choice. 

She couldn’t bear Mabel Binks; and she did 
feel sorry for the poor little new girl who seemed 
so ready to dissolve into tears. Jo was the best 
old thing in the world, with a heart as big as 
all outdoors and an optimistic nature that was 
bound to influence Annie and make her more 
cheerful ; at the same time, Annie’s breeding and 
careful speech had its good effect on the husky 
Jo. Before the year was up, they were as in- 
timate as a Senior and Sophomore could be. 

On that famous evening which was after- 
ward known as the “Kitten Evening,” Dee 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 77 

kept disappearing between dances. She would 
come back, flushed and a little troubled-looking, 
but would go on with the dance with a do-or-die 
expression. Study hour in the assembly hall 
from eight to ten and then half an hour to get 
to bed before the bell rang for lights out: that 
was the order of procedure. As we studied, I 
noticed how Dee kept fidgeting and twisting. 
Dum noticed it, too, and the fidgets seemed to be 
catching. We were on our honor not to speak 
during study hour, and of course that settled 
the matter for the Tuckers and me. Dee could 
squirm herself into a bowknot and Dum and I 
could die of curiosity, and still honor forbade 
our making a sign to find out what was the 
matter. 

I never spent such a long and unprofitable 
two hours in my life. I tried to concentrate my 
attention on my lessons, but it was impossible 
with Dee at the desk in front of me never still a 
minute. 

“The bell at last !” exclaimed Dee. 

“Well, your lessons have been Reeling and 
Writhing, Dee Tucker. I never saw such a wig- 


78 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


gler in my life.” But Dee was off like a whirl- 
wind, without a word to Dum and me. She 
didn't even take her books with her or gather 
up the scattered papers that were strewn over 
her desk. We mercifully saved her some demer- 
its by putting things in order for her. 

“What do you reckon is up with Dee?” said 
Dum anxiously. “She is either brewing some 
mischief or is already in a scrape.” 

We found the door to 117 carefully closed and 
Dee already in bed. How she ever managed to 
get in so rapidly, I could not see, unless she 
followed the plan of “Diddle, diddle dumpling, 
my son, John.” 

“Now, Dee Tucker, what is the matter with 
you?” begged Dum anxiously. 

“The matter with me?” said Dee with feigned 
coolness. “Nothing on earth, my dear sister. 
What should be the matter with me ? I am sim- 
ply sleepy and thought I would get into bed.” 

“How about your teeth and your prayers ?” 

“Cleaned 'em and said 'em,” said Dee lacon- 
ically, and she turned over rather gingerly, I no- 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 7^ 

ticed, and pretended to have fallen into a deep 
sleep. 

“She won't be able to keep it to herself very 
long," whispered Dum to me. “If it is any fun, 
she can't be low enough not to share it; and if 
it is trouble of some sort, she is sure to let us in 
on it. I'll take the motto of Prosper le Gai: 
‘I bide my time.' " 

Respecting Dee's evident desire for silence, 
Dum and I went very quietly to bed and had the 
light out long before it was time. 

A knock at the door ! “Come in," called Dum. 
It was Annie Pore, very apologetic at disturb- 
ing us. 

“It is ten minutes before lights out bell. I 
had no idea you had all gone to bed. I was wor- 
ried about Dee. Is she all right? She looked 
so feverish." 

“Oh, yes, she’s all right; just sleepy," said 
Dum politely. “Thank you all the same, Annie." 

Annie softly closed the door. I heard strange 
sounds from Dee’s bed but could not tell whether 
she was laughing or crying. 

Another knock ! 


80 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


“Come in,” a little wearily from Dum. 

Miss Jane Cox this time ! 

“Oh, girls, excuse me! I did not know you 
were in bed, I was a little anxious about Dee.” 
A snore from Dee's bed, rather melodramatic 
in tone. “She seemed so upset during study 
hour. I was on duty and I did not know whether 
she needed castor oil or a demerit.” The snoring 
stopped. The snorer was evidently deliberating. 

“I think she is all right now, Miss Cox,” I 
ventured. “She went right off to bed as soon 
as study hour was over. Maybe she won't have 
to have either, demerit or oil. My private opin- 
ion is she had a flea down her back, but she says 
she was just tired and sleepy.” A gratified 
snore from Dee and Miss Cox with a little 
snicker went to her room. 

“Night, Sable Goddess, from her ebon throne, 
Now stretches forth a leaden scepter o’er a 
slumbering world.” 

Lights out bell had rung, and the girls all 
along the corridors in Carter Hall had gone to 
bed and to sleep. I had a feeling of impending 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


81 


something, not necessarily evil, but excitement, 
at least. Dum was breathing gently and regu- 
larly like a sleeping infant. Dee stirred every 
now and then and occasionally muttered an un- 
intelligible something. I dozed but waked with 
a start. 

"Mieuw — mieuw — mieuw!” came in a heart- 
rending wail from Dee’s bed. 

"Shhhh-shhhh ! Poor ittle titty puss! Don’t 
you cwy, honey child! Shhh ” 

"Mieuw — mieuw-mieuw-mieuw ! ! ! !■” More 
subdued endearments from Dee. Dum slept on, 
but I heard a door open way down the hall! 
Some teacher, with sharp ears, no doubt. 

"Dee,” I whispered, "put your little finger in 
its mouth and let it suck until that busybody 
down the hall goes back into her room.” There 
was the sound of a door closing. 

"What is your advice, Page?” 

"Have you anything for it to eat?” 

"Bread and milk, but it won’t eat.” 

"Of course not, it is too little. Did you warm 
the milk?” I inquired. 

"No, how could I with no stove?” One of the 


82 AT BOARDING SCHOOL 

rules of the institution was: no alcohol stoves. 

“Wait a minute. I’ve got a candle that 
Mammy Susan put in my bag in case of acci- 
dents/’ How I blessed the kind old woman who 
had thought of everything. “Them newfangled 
lights may be mighty fine but if they ’cide not to 
wuck some night, a good ole tallow can’le ’ll come 
in mighty handy, chile, also some saftest 
matches,” she had said as she overrode all my 
objections and tucked the life-saving candle and 
matches in my already overworked grip. 

I got up, donned slippers and dressing gown, 
gently closed the window, as the night was de- 
cidedly frosty, and found the matches and can- 
dle. We did not dare to light the electric light 
because of the transom over the door. Pussy 
might at any moment let out another wail, and 
then the wakeful teacher, seeing the light, would 
make for our room. In feeling for the table, I 
touched Dum’s foot and she waked with a start. 

“What’s the matter, Dee? Are you sick?” 
And Dum sat up in bed. 

“Shhh — No, Dum, she’s not sick but the little 
kitty is hungry,” I whispered. 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


83 


“The what is hungry ?” 

“Not so loud, Dum dear, please! It’s just a 
poor, miserable little foundling of a kitty puss 
that I simply could not leave by the roadside. 
I've got it in bed with me here.” 

“Oh, Caroline Tucker! A nasty little cat in 
bed with you? What would Zebedee say?” and 
Dum sniffed the air disdainfully. 

“He would say just what I say, Virginia 
Tucker, that it is a mighty funny thing that you, 
who were in line before me and must have seen 
the poor little wretched kitten first, didn’t feel it 
your duty to rescue it from its misery. I am 
ashamed of you, belonging to the S. P. C. A., 
too,” and Dee gave her little charge a brand new 
finger to suck. 

Things were looking rather serious : Dum and 
Dee calling one another Virginia and Caroline 
and that in no modulated tones; and the candle 
making such a bright light that I expected every 
minute to hear a teacher rapping on our door. 

“Now, look here, Tweedles, both of you stop 
your fussing and ’tend to the business in hand. 
You can fight it out to-morrow, but for Heav- 


84 : 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


en’s sake, put all of your surplus energy now on 
getting the kitten fed and quiet and 117 not in 
a deluge of demerits. Dum, get up and pin two 
middy ties over the transom. ,, 

Dum obediently carried out my instructions 
while I warmed the milk that Dee had purloined 
from the supper table over the blessed candle. I 
sweetened it a little and diluted it with water. 
I warmed it in Dee's silver pin-tray, as we had 
no pan of any sort. 

“Dip your finger in here, Dee, and let the kit- 
ten taste it so it can realize succor is near. It is 
lots too young to lap and will have to suck a 
rag." 

Dum tore up an old handkerchief for me and 
in a little while kitty was tugging away for dear 
life, one end of the bit of cambric in its pink flan- 
nel mouth and the other in the pin-tray of milk. 

Dum was soon won over to the helpless little 
thing. “It is sweet, Dee, I declare; let me hold 
it a minute." 

Dee magnanimously handed it over to her sis- 
ter who held the pin-tray very carefully and let 
kitty feed as tenderly as any young mother. It 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


85 


soon got its fill and curled up and purred “just 
like a fairy buzz-saw,” Dum declared. 

“To think of a tiny cat like that knowing how 
to purr!” exclaimed Dee. 

“To think of a tiny cat like that having such 
enormous fleas on it,” shuddered Dum. “Here, 
take the beastie, I’m going back to bed before I 
get full of 'em.” 

“Yes, they are something awful,” sighed Dee, 
“I am literally eaten alive.” 

“Poor old Dee ! Change your nightgown and 
leave your bed to the pussy and come snuggle in 
with me,” said Dum. 

Pussy slept very well in Dee's bed, waking 
only about every two hours and mewing for 
nourishment. Dee and I would get wearily up, 
warm the milk and administer. 

“Oh, who could be a cat with kittens ?” sighed 
Dee. 

Morning finally came and the problem of what 
to do with our adopted child had to be faced. 

“Do you know what I'd do if I were you. 
Dee? I’d go right to Miss Peyton and tell her 
all about it. I’ll go with you. She would sym- 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


S6 

pathize with you, I really believe, and help you 
find a home for pussy,” I said. 

‘Til go, too,” cried Dum. 

Miss Peyton was fine. She seemed to think 
Dee had merely been imprudent, not at all 
naughty. She agreed with Dee that it was a 
strange thing that the whole line of girls and 
teachers should have passed the little waif by. 

“Girls, I am proud and happy that you should 
have felt I was the person to confide in. If 
all the school could only understand that I am 
their friend and not just the principal and dealer 
in demerits. Of course you can't keep the kitten 
in your room, but I will see that a good home 
is found for it with someone who will take the 
trouble to feed it until it can lap for itself. I 
think I know exactly the right person in the 
village.” 

We went from the principal's office in very 
happy and exalted states of mind. 

“Isn't she wonderful?” exclaimed Dee. 
“Wasn't she splendid to us?” 

“She was fine,” enthused Dum. “I am cer- 
tainly relieved.” 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


87 


I said to myself: “Miss Peyton was awfully 
nice, but it is plain to be seen she is fond of cats. 
I wonder how she would have felt if it had been 
an orphan snake or an abused Billy-goat !” 


88 


!AT BOAEDING SCHOOL 


CHAPTER VII. 
kitty's foster-father. 

Tweedles and I were excused from the Gym 
exercises that afternoon with the request that 
we meet Miss Peyton in her office at three 
o’clock. We were there on time, you may be 
sure, and Dee had the kitty all done up in a shoe 
box ready for the trip. We had christened him 
Oliver Twist, because he kept on “hollering for 
more” all the weary night. 

Miss Peyton laughed until the tears rolled 
down her cheeks over the description of our 
trials during the night. When we found out 
that she did not think it was so terribly wicked 
of Dee, we felt we could tell her everything, even 
the middy ties over the transom and the fleas in 
Dee’s bed. 

“You poor girls must be nearly dead, aren’t 
you?” she asked kindly. 

“Page and I feel right scrooch-eyed, but after 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


89 


the first feeding, Dum slept through it all,” 
laughed Dee. “I have more sympathy than ever 
for poor Zebedee. That's what we call our 
Father, you know, Miss Peyton. He had to bring 
up Dum and me on bottles as our little Mother 
died when we were tiny babies. If one kitten 
could keep two girls awake most of the night 
heating milk for it, don't you fancy two twins, 
like Dum and me, could keep one man awake all 
the time?" 

“Didn't you have a nurse?" I asked. 

“Of course we did, all kinds and colors, but 
Dum and I wouldn't drink unless Zebedee gave 
us the bottles. He says he was afraid the nurse 
might not be sanitary and trusted no one but 
himself to fix the milk." 

“Poor old Zebedee!" sighed Dum, her eyes 
filling. “I don't see how we could have been so 
mean to him." 

We had started on our quest for a friend for 
kitty, Miss Peyton leading the way down toward 
the village. She seemed to be enjoying the lit- 
tle outing as much as we were. 

“Your Father must be very patient," she said, 


90 


AT BOABDING SCHOOL 


putting her arm in Dum’s when she saw the ha- 
zel eyes filling at the thought of her Father. 

“Well, the funny part of it is, he is not one 
bit patient except with Dee and me. Do you 
know, once he got dreadfully mad with the tele- 
phone girl who kept on cutting him off when he 
was in the midst of some most important busi- 
ness that could not wait, and every time he would 
try to get connection again, the operator would 
say Xine busy/ Now he knew the line was not 
busy and the person on the other end was just 
as anxious to be got as he was to get him, and, 
as I was saying, he got so mad he pulled the tele- 
phone out by the roots/’ 

“Well, that was, to say the least, impulsive/’ 
and Miss Peyton laughed like any schoolgirl. 

“You mustn’t think Zebedee is bad-tempered,” 
put in Dee. “He’s got the sweetest disposition 
in the world. He’s just quick-tempered. He has 
learned to control himself wonderfully but you 
know he is real young yet” 

“Yes, I know,” said Miss Peyton solemnly. 
“Tell us whom you are going to get to be 
kitty’s foster father, Miss Peyton,” I said, pur- 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 91 

posely changing the subject. Not that I did not 
take the keenest interest in everything pertaining 
to Mr. Tucker, but I could see that the twins 
were both getting leaky, and it did seem a pity 
to have a cloud cast over our delightful walk 
with Miss Peyton. 

“Indeed, I will,” she said, giving me an ap- 
proving nod. “It is dear old Captain Pat Leahy. 
I hope you girls will like him as much as I do. 
He is sure to like you. Of course he may not 
be able to keep the little thing and then I don't 
know what we will do. Anyhow, let's not bor- 
row trouble. I know the dear man will do it 
for me if he possibly can. When I first came 
to Gresham as a pupil ” 

“Oh, were you a pupil here?” we exclaimed in 
one breath. 

“Yes, indeed, I came here before I went to 
college. Gresham had not such a grand building 
then and accommodated only about fifty girls. 
It was more like a home school. Captain Leahy 
was then conductor on the local train and took 
an especial interest in the Gresham girls. I shall 


92 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


never forget how good he was to me on my first 
trip. I was lonesome and shy ” 

“You, shy! Oh, Miss Peyton, were you, 
really ?” 

“I should say I was. Why, Annie Pore is 
brazen beside what I was as a child. Captain 
Leahy sat by me between stations and with his 
ready Irish tongue cheered me up immensely. 
He treated me to peanuts and made me laugh and 
gave me a new outlook on life. The poor fel- 
low lost a leg in a railroad accident about ten 
years ago, and ever since then has kept the gate 
where the track crosses the main street of 
Gresham.” 

“Does he like cats?” I asked. 

“Oh, yes, he adores them. That is the great 
bond of sympathy between us. He loves cats 
and he loves flowers. He also has a great fond- 
ness for young people. Here we are,” and Miss 
Peyton pointed out the gate-house where her old 
friend lived. 

It was just an ordinary little square box of 
a house painted the pumpkin yellow that rail- 
roads are so partial to, but all around it were 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 93 

window boxes, some of them filled with gerani- 
ums, some with Norway spruces and English 
ivy. A moon flower had completely covered one 
side of the little house, but the frost had touched 
the big leaves and they were dropping off one 
by one. 

A grizzled old man with a long red beard and 
a peg leg was digging around the geraniums as 
we approached. “Captain, I have brought some 
of my girls to meet you,” said Miss Peyton, hold- 
ing out her hand to the old man and introducing 
us. 

“And I am that proud to meet all of yez; and 
so will me cats be. The poor critters long for 
some petticoats to cuddle oop to. A peg leg is 
but cold comfort to a pussy when she is hanker- 
ing for some women folk,” and with a hearty 
laugh the old fellow stumped to the door of his 
little gate-house and called to the cats. Out they 
came, seven in all and a motley crew. The Cap- 
tain was very democratic and not particular 
about the pedigree of his friends. 

“All cats are aristocratic if you just give 'em 


94 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


a chance,” he would declare when some cat snob 
would suggest that he go in for pure breeds. 

Six of the cats came to him and rubbed their 
backs against his good leg; but the seventh, a 
large gray one with a mournful look in her eyes, 
began to sharpen her claws on a long strip of 
sand paper he had tacked to his wooden leg. We 
burst out laughing. It was the most comical 
thing I had ever seen. 

"A little invintion of me own. There are no 
trees handy for the poor critters to sharpen their 
claws on and I find this device saves me furni- 
ture many a scratch.” He stooped and laid his 
hand lovingly on the mournful one, but she 
arched her back and moved over to the protec- 
tion of Dee’s skirts. 

"What, schtill angry wid me, poor Bett? I 
had to have her kittens drowned, all but one, 
and she can’t forgive me, not that I blame her. 
.But what am I to do, Miss Peyton? Me house 
is schmall and Bett is that prolific she could fur- 
nish kittens for all the ould maids in Christen- 
dom in little or no toime.” 

"Well, it is a problem, Captain Leahy, but I 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


95 . 


am sorry for Bett. Aren’t there enough old 
maids in Gresham to help you out some?” Miss 
Peyton stooped down and picked up the poor 
bereaved mother who nestled comfortably in her 
arms and began to purr loudly. 

“The demand doesn’t come oop to Bett’s sup- 
ply, niver in the world,” laughed the old man.. 
“But what am I thinking of keeping yez wait- 
ing out here so long? Come in, come in!” I 
have never heard such a rich, delicious voice as 
Captain Leahy’s; and his brogue was as soft as 
the purr of his cats. 

“Before we go in, I might as well tell you 
what has brought us to you especially, Captain,” 
said Miss Peyton. 

“What? You must schnatch me from me 
Tool’s Paradise? I was after thinking all the 
time you had come to see the ould man him- 
self,” and his eyes twinkled mischievously. 

“So we did, dear Captain. We have come to- 
see you because you are you, and we need your 
help,” answered Miss Peyton with her engag- 
ing smile that somehow made one feel that her 
way was the best way. 


96 AT BOARDING SCHOOL 

^Well, sitting is as cheap as standing and I 
want this peg leg to last as long as I do. It is 
astonishing how fast they wear out. Come in, 
come in, and tell me what it is you want me to 
help yez about,” and he led the way into his 
little house. 

It did not seem so small when you got in be- 
cause it was so orderly. The lower berth from 
a wrecked Pullman served him as seat by day 
and bed by night. The very smallest cooking 
stove imaginable, almost a doll baby size, pol- 
ished like the boots of a dandy, was at one side. 
Over it was a shelf with some blue and white 
china on it, and under the shelf a few cooking 
utensils and a dish pan and biscuit board. 

“Sit down, sit down, and while the kittle is 
biling for tay, I can listen to your trroobles.” 
We seated ourselves on the Pullman seat while 
the dear old man busied himself with the tea 
kettle. Bett, the bereaved mother, still nestled 
in Miss Peyton’s arms, but after a moment she 
wriggled out and got into the box behind the 
stove. “You’d better look after your baby, you 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 97 

ould rip. I’m thinking these ladies are that fond 
of cats that they might be making off wid it.” 

“That’s just it, Captain Leahy, these ladies 
are fond of cats, one of them especially,” indi- 
cating Dee. “So fond of them that yesterday 
when the whole school was out on the Valley Road 
taking the dignified walk that is required, what 
should Miss Caroline Tucker do but rescue a 
poor little lost kitten, mewing by the roadside, 
carry it home in her muff without teacher or fel- 
low pupil seeing her, and actually Jake it to bed 
with her. But, girls, you tell Captain Leahy 
about it yourselves,” which we did at Miss Pey- 
ton’s command. 

He enjoyed the prank as much as Miss Peyton 
and laughed until the blue and white china 
danced on the little shelf. 

“And now I know very well what ye have 
come for. Ye want me to take a boarder.” 

“Oh, will you, please?” implored Dee. 

Bett, having nourished her lone offspring, now 
carried it in her mouth for Miss Peyton’s in- 
spection, and Dee, seeing her, jumped up in great 
excitement, dropping the box she had been hold- 


98 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


ing so carefully and waking up Oliver Twist in 
the fall. “Look, look! Bett’s kitten looks just 
like Oliver ! I thought it was him at first.” Dee 
was excited and we all excused her English. 
Oliver began to cry aloud and Bett tore around 
like one demented. 

“Well, Bett, old girl, your baby has been re- 
stored to yez. If this don’t beat all! On the 
Valley Road, yesterday, you say? I told that 
boy to be careful of the hole in the bag, that the 
runt might fall through it, and so he did. You 
call him Oliver, you say? Well, that is a hand- 
some name for such a poor mite, but maybe it 
will give him some ambition to grow oop to it. 
There’s an ould saying: Tf you escape drown- 
ing, you’ll live to be hanged.’ I hope not, Oliver, 
I hope not.” 

Now Bett, having one of her babies back, for- 
gave her master and rubbed herself against his 
good leg; and then such another washing as she 
did give Oliver before she considered him fit 
to get into the box that she called home! 

The kettle was boiling and the tea soon steep- 
ing in the pretty teapot. The Captain put up 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


99 


a little table exactly like the ones on the train 
and we had the merriest kind of a party. 

“Your cats are so fat, Captain, what do you 
feed them on?” asked Dee, in her element with 
two cats in her lap. 

“An ould frind of mine, who is schteward on 
a diner saves me all the schraps and the cats live 
high, higher than their master, by a long shot. 
But do you know the windfall I have had lately,. 
Miss Peyton?” 

“No; do tell me. I am so glad of any good 
fortune that comes to you, Captain.” 

“Bless your schwate heart for thim words! 
Well, I have always had a hard toime about my 
shoes since I lost me limb. Such an accumula- 
tion of rights as you never saw wid no one want- 
ing of thim and no place to put thim and feeling 
it was to say the least a sin to be throwing thim 
away, when no doubt there was somewhere in 
the worrld a man who had lost his lift leg who 
would give anything for thim. Well, I came on 
this advertisement in a Washington paper: ‘A 
man who has lost his left leg would like to get 
into communication with one who has lost his. 


100 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


right. E/ I knew soon as I clapped eyes 

on it that some poor fellow was in exactly me 
own dilimma. I did get into communication wid 
him and now I am no longer trying to find a 
place for the right shoes I have no use for and 
on the other hand I have enough of the lifts to 
last me a lifetime, n ]/ 2 E’s too, exactly my 
size.” 

‘Well, that was a windfall surely,” said Miss 
Peyton. (“More like a footfall,” muttered 
Dum.) “But, Captain, I thought you were go- 
ing to buy a fine jointed leg with a foot and then 
you would need your own right shoes.” 

“Oh, I have given oop the notion. You see 
my cats would miss the peg something awful, 
wid no place to sharpen their little claws; and 
thin I have found a poor widdy woman living 
down the track a piece and the right leg of me 
pants do come in so handy for the poor thing 
to make schuits for her little byes. It would 
seem a sin to use that warm cloth to cover cork, 
whin some poor little lamb is shivering in the 
cold.” 

“Ah, Captain, always thinking how you can 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 101 

be good to children and cats/’ said Miss Peyton. 

Then with many thanks to the old Irish- 
man for his hospitality and his kindness and the 
good time he had given us, we took our depar- 
ture. I noticed that Dum, who had been very 
quiet and whose eyes had been misty several 
times, especially when the Captain told of the 
fate of his trouser legs, stepped back into the 
little house and I heard her whisper to the old 
man : “Please, Captain, take this half dollar and 
buy some toys for the little lambs who wear the 
pant legs.” I happened to know it was the whole 
of her week’s allowance, too. 


102 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


CHAPTER VIII. 

ABOUT MATHEMATICS AND ME. 

I was a very difficult pupil to place, having 
been overeducated in some subjects and abso- 
lutely neglected in others. I might have gone 
with the seniors in English and History; was 
normal in Latin, that is, sophomore, where girls 
of my age were put; was just beginning French; 
and had to go with the kids in Mathematics. I 
had never played a game of tennis in my life 
nor even seen a game of basketball, but I was 
naturally athletic from the free country life I 
had led, and it was soon realized in athletic cir- 
cles that I would be on the team with a little 
coaching. 

I was glad to see that Miss Cox was to teach 
me Arithmetic. Miss Peyton hoped I could get 
into Algebra by Christmas and then, with hard 
study and earnest coaching, perhaps catch up 
with the class. I had a feeling that Miss Cox 
and I were going to pull together if she could 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 103 

just let herself go. Her manner in the class was 
rather wooden, but she was an excellent teacher 
and the girls were quick to recognize that, so 
while she was not popular, she was not disliked. 

I was such a stupid in Mathematics that I 
was afraid she might put me down as a dunce 
and lose all interest in me, but the fact that I 
read “Alice in Wonderland” seemed to be in my 
favor. 

“Page, I will not have you look upon yourself 
as hopeless in Arithmetic,” she said to me one 
day when I despaired of ever understanding 
what seemed to me a very intricate problem. 
“Lewis Carroll was a great mathematician and 
still he wrote the delicious classic that you and 
I are so fond of. Now I think minds that ap- 
preciate the same things must be similar. I be- 
lieve there is a corner of your brain that is 
absolutely unexplored and that corner corre- 
sponds to the great fertile area in Lewis Car- 
roll's. All it needs in you is working, digging, 
cultivating to produce fruit.” 

“Oh, Miss Cox, how splendid of you to look 
at it that way! I am going to try awfully hard 


104 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


to work my poor, little, neglected, unused plot of 
brain with all my might. If I can’t grow any- 
thing but green persimmons, that would be better; 
than nothing.” 

“Ambition, Distraction, Uglification and De- 
rision are the hard things. If you look at it 
right, one side of Mathematics is really roman- 
tic.” 

Father always said the way to control me 
was through my imagination and Miss Cox had 
surely hit on my weakness. The result was that 
Mathematics was no longer dry-as-dust to me. I 
found it had been a closed book because I had 
never been interested enough to open it. I soon 
outstripped the kids in my class and was put in 
a higher one. I had to read frequent chapters 
of “Alice in Wonderland” to cheer me on, and 
Miss Cox used to quote Lewis Carroll to me 
when she and I were alone. I found the other 
girls in the classes looked upon her as nothing 
but a teacher and she regarded them as mere 
pupils, to be taught conscientiously and then dis- 
missed. 

One day I sailed safely through a problem 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 105 

that was noted as a regular stumper. As soon 
as the class was dismissed, Miss Cox exclaimed : 

“ 'Come to my arms, my beamish boy. You’ve 
slain the Jabberwock.’ Page, I really believe you 
are going to end by being a pretty good mathe- 
matician.” 

I answered: 

“ 'He thought he saw a Garden Door 
That opened with a key: 

He looked again, and found it was 
A Double Rule of Three: 

'And all its mystery/ he said, 

'Is clear as day to me!’ 

If I ever understand it, it will be thanks to you 
and Lewis Carroll !” 

The Tuckers had been to school pretty stead- 
ily all their lives, so they were able to go into 
the sophomore class in everything. I bitterly 
regretted that my education had been so erratic, 
but determined to make the best of it. Dum 
helped me with my French and we tried to keep 
to our rule of talking French at the table; but 
as we did what Mammy Susan called our own 
“retching” and my vocabulary was somewhat 


106 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


limited, we had to resort to English a great deal 
or go unfed. 

I know Dum and Dee felt sorry for me for 
being in a kids’ class in Mathematics. I didn’t 
really mind nearly so much as they thought I did. 
The kids were nice to me and I made some 
mighty good friends among them. 

There was one little bunchy girl named Mary 
Flannigan who turned out in the end one of the 
best friends I ever had in my life. She was 
short and stumpy, with scrambled red hair and 
a freckled face and the very keenest sense of 
humor I had ever known. She was a year 
younger than I was but very well up in her 
classes, and she had a genius for mimicry that 
was irresistibly funny. She had some stunts 
that endeared her to all the girls. She could 
do a dog fight or cats on the back fence; and 
could go so like a mosquito that you were cer- 
tain you would be bitten in a moment. She was 
something of a ventriloquist, which made these 
accomplishments especially delightful. 

Mary and I were put into Algebra at the same 
time, and to our joy Miss Cox was to teach us. 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 107 

Mary had found out Miss Cox, too. Tweedles 
and I had religiously refrained from telling any 
of the girls about her mad revel on the day of 
our arrival, but we had tried to make them un- 
derstand what a very good old girl she was if 
you could just find her out; and our attitude 
toward her was having its effect on the whole 
school. Miss Cox, realizing that she was really 
liked and understood, had a change of expression 
as well as heart. Her sad, crooked face was 
now a happy, crooked face and she no longer 
saved her jokes for Tweedles and me, but got 
them off indiscriminately, and very good jokes 
they were, too. The classes in voice culture be- 
came more popular, and more and more girls 
wrote home begging to be allowed to “take sing- 
ing.” 

I shall never forget Mary’s and my first lesson 
in Algebra. Miss Cox looked at us with her 
twisted smile. 

“Algebra is rather a poetical-sounding name, 
don’t you think?” she asked us. 

“Maybe it is,” said Mary, “but I bet it takes it 
out in sounding so.” 


108 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


“Oh, I don’t know about that,” and Miss Cox 
opened the book at the first page and read as 
follows: “ ‘In Algebra, the operations of Arith- 
metic are abridged and generalized by means of 
Symbols.’ That appeals to the imagination some- 
what, I think. ‘Symbols which represent num- 
bers.’ Just that word ‘Symbol’ sets me to dream- 
ing. Arithmetic is the prose of Mathematics 
where everything is stated and nothing left to 
the imagination, but Algebra is very different. 
‘Known Numbers are usually represented by the 
first letters of the alphabet, as a, b, c. Unknown 
Numbers, or those whose values are to be de- 
termined, are usually represented by the last let- 
ters of the alphabet, as x, y, z.’ The unknown 
numbers, — the mysterious numbers, — for what 
is unknown is in a measure mysterious and what 
is mysterious is romantic or poetic. That is the 
way I think of it. In working your Algebra, 
don’t just look at it as hard, dry facts to be mas- 
tered, but let x, y, z be the Great Unknown 
that you are to find. Let the problem be a plot 
that you are to unravel as Poe did ‘The Gold 
Bug.’ ” 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


109 


You may well imagine that Mary and I set to 
with a will to get all we could out of such a 
thrilling subject. There were times when we 
felt that Miss Cox was drawing a little on her 
imagination to find poetry in such an example 
as this, for instance: 

4X* 3 — 3x^— 27 = 0 

On the whole, though, Algebra was much more 
interesting than Arithmetic, and sometimes I had 
the realization that it did mean a lot to me ; and 
Mary said she felt the same way. Anyhow, in 
the early spring we were able to take the sopho- 
more tests and go on in that class. Miss Peyton 
said she considered it really wonderful that I 
should have progressed so rapidly, but I told her 
it was all due to Miss Cox's being so certain that 
Lewis Carroll and I had similar brains. 


110 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


CHAPTER IX. 

FOOTBAIX. 

None of our crowd had reached what the 
grown-ups call “the boy age.” We had our 
heroes of romance that it was difficult for any 
of the male persuasion in real life to live up to. 
Tweedles declared that Zebedee was boy enough 
for them; although Dum thought if she ever 
met a Prosper le Gai she might consider him; 
while Dee had an idea a boy like Laurie, in “Lit- 
tle Women,” would be some sport and she might 
be willing to knock around with him a bit. Jane 
Eyre’s “Mr. Rochester” was my beau ideal. 

“I want a dark, masterful lover who could 
tie the poker up in a bowknot if he had a mind 
to ; a rude man who could bring tears to my eyes 
by his gruffness, and then, with the gentleness 
of a woman, soothe my aching head.” 

“Oh, Page,” chimed in Annie Pore, “how 
could you want such a ruffian? I like Henry 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 111 

Esmond, so kind and courteous and digni- 
fied ” 

“Yes, and as stiff as a poker. My ‘Mr. 
Rochester’ could tie him up in a bowknot in no 
time ” 

“And soothe your aching head with him, too, 
I fancy. I think a man who is rude enough to 
make a woman cry and strong enough to tie 
up pokers would be more than likely to beat his 
wife with said poker.” This from Mary Flanni- 
gan, who was in our room during the discus- 
sion of our favorite heroes. “I want ‘Charles 
O’Malley’ or nothing. Give me a man who is 
gay and rollicking, at the same time good-tem- 
pered and kindly if quick to fight withal.” 

We had to laugh at Mary. She was such a 
little Mother Bunch, with her crinkly red hair 
bushing out around her fat freckled face, — 
hardly a likely person to attract a hero of ro- 
mance. Mary wore as many petticoats as Mam- 
my Susan and all of them were tied around her 
waist with draw strings. I verily believe that 
she and Mammy Susan were the only persons 
left in the world who wore red flannel petti- 


112 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


coats. In that day and generation when slimiky 
skirts were the rage, you can fancy how Mary 
looked with her gathered skirts. She also had 
a leaning toward deep ruffles around her neck, 
which more than ever gave her the look of a 
clown dog. 

She had a way of breaking into the conver- 
sation very much as the clown dog breaks into 
the ring, and no matter how serious she was, we 
simply had to laugh at her. She was very good- 
natured and not the least bit touchy. We 
laughed at her general bunchiness just because 
we couldn't help it, but one and all liked her for 
her good temper and ready wit and respected her 
for her excellent standing in her classes, where 
she was the youngest pupil. We also envied her 
the delightful stunts that I believe I have men- 
tioned before. 

‘Td rather be able to go like a dog, the way 
Mary can, than make the finest statue of one 
that ever was done,” sighed Dum. 

“Nonsense, Dum. Anybody can go like a 
dog with a little practice, but to make one in clay 
is going some. But to return to our lovers: 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


113 


what do you girls say to taking in the football 
game over at Hill-Top? The seniors are going, 
one and all, and Miss Peyton says any of us can 
go who wish. Miss Cox will chaperon the 
sophomores.” 

Hill-Top was a boys’ school on the other side 
of the village from Gresham Academy, and 
young ladies from our school were always in- 
vited to the match games there; and our school 
in turn sent a formal invitation to the pupils of 
Hill-Top when an interesting basketball game 
was to be played at Gresham. 

“Oh, do come, all of you. I’ve never seen a 
game of football in my life and I’m just wild 
to,” I begged. 

“I guess I won’t go,” said Annie. 

“Well, I think you’ve got another guess com- 
ing, unless you have a powerful good reason,” 
I exclaimed. 

“My only reason is that I am so embarrassed 
with boys,” and poor Annie gave her usual pain- 
ful blush. 

“Oh, you won’t have to speak to the boys. 
They never notice the Sophs, anyhow, but give 


114 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


all their twaddle to the Juniors and Seniors. If 
a boy, old enough to walk ’loney, breaks through 
Mabel Dinks’ guard, he is a hero for fair,” 
laughed Dee. 

So, Annie’s objections overcome, we hurried 
her and Mary off to put on their hats and wraps, 
and quickly donning our own, got downstairs 
just in time to form in line with the Sophomores, 
who were starting under the leadership of Miss 
Cox for the game at Hill-Top. 

“I’m glad to see you are going, Page,” said 
Margaret Sayre, as she hooked her arm in mine. 
“I am to help Miss Cox keep order, although I 
don’t really think I am needed. Sophomores 
are never boy crazy. The Juniors are the ones, 
as a rule, that need quieting. Sometimes I won- 
der where all the bad Juniors go to and where 
all the good Seniors come from.” 

“Well, I reckon the bad Juniors were once 
good Sophomores and they can just as easily 
turn into good Seniors,” I responded. 

The Juniors at Gresham were a rather wild 
lot and they had as a leader Mabel Binks, who, 
although she was a Senior, chose her friends en- 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 115 

tirely among the Juniors. The truth of the mat- 
ter was, as Mammy Susan used to say, Mabel 
would rather be a “king among buzzards than 
a buzzard among kings.” The Seniors would 
have none of her leadership and among them 
she had to take a back seat; while the Juniors 
welcomed her to their ranks with joy, not re- 
alizing why she had chosen them, and flattered 
by her notice. 

The long line of girls, two abreast, wound its 
way through the streets of the little town and 
out into the country again to the boys’ school. 
It was really a very pretty sight, this row of 
blooming, happy girls, all ages and sizes, dressed 
in the universally becoming dark blue, with their 
jaunty velvet sailor hats perched at every con- 
ceivable angle on heads of hair of every con- 
ceivable color. 

“Doesn’t Annie Pore look pretty in her new 
hat?” whispered Miss Sayre. 

These velvet sailors were ordered by the school 
and every pupil was obliged to have one. All 
of us were glad that Annie was forced to dis- 
card her forlorn-looking crepe hat that looked 


116 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


for all the world like a last year's bird's nest. 
The black velvet sailor was exactly right for 
her, throwing into pleasing contrast her milk- 
white skin, and bringing out the wonderful tints 
in her ripe-wheat hair. Jo Barr with wonder- 
ful tact had managed to change the hang of 
her dragging skirt and it was now even around 
the bottom. 

“I think she is beautiful and she is really very 
fine in many ways. I have grown so fond of 
her. All of us have. And I think Dum and 
Dee are having a splendid effect on her spirits, 
for she is not nearly so lugubrious." 

“Dum and Dee may be having a fine effect, 
too," laughed Miss Sayre, “but a girl named 
Page Allison is doing her part. All the faculty 
notice it. I wish someone like you could be in 
every class, someone to leaven the whole lump 
with a certain quality of camaraderie. Annie 
Pore was as forlorn a specimen of humanity as 
ever stepped out of a 'bus that first day here, 
and now look at her!" 

Annie was laughing heartily as Mary Flan- 
nigan made a noise like a sick kitten, throwing 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 117 

her voice, with her powers as a ventriloquist, 
so it seemed to come from a clump of sumac by 
the roadside. Dee was peering eagerly into the 
bushes before she caught on to the joke. Annie 
Pore certainly did not look like the same girl. 
No one would think of nicknaming her “Orphan 
Annie” now. The name clung to her, however, 
among a certain class, thanks to Mabel Binks, 
who had not been able to forgive or forget the 
laugh raised against her by Annie on the first 
day of school. 

Hill-Top was built much in the same style as 
Gresham, and it, too, had the Parthenon effect 
with its big white pillars. The view was not 
quite so fine as ours, but from the little experi- 
ence I had had of boys, I imagined they did not 
go in for views to any great extent. 

“A primrose by the river’s brink, 

A common primrose was to him and nothing 
more.” 

For that matter, I noticed that mighty few of 
the girls at Gresham appreciated the view, and 
as Miss Sayre said, thought more of dessert for 
dinner than of the view of the mountains. 


118 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


The game was just starting as we arrived, so 
we seated ourselves on the benches provided for 
the visitors with as little stir as possible. Dum 
got on the other side of me to put me on to the 
points of the great game of football. 

“It seems too foolish and backwoodsy for me 
never to have seen a game,” I said, “but at Mil- 
ton everyone is too old to do more than walk 
through a set of croquet or too young to do 
more than bounce a rubber ball. Father occa- 
sionally threatens to go up to Richmond for the 
Virginia-Carolina game at Thanksgiving, but 
somebody is always coming or going (I mean 
getting born or dying), and we have never made 
it yet.” 

“Never mind, honey,” and Dum gave me a 
hug, “you’ll learn all the points of the game to- 
day, and some time when we are back in Rich- 
mond, Zebedee will give us a great football party. 
We always go to the Thanksgiving game. I 
don’t see what Zebedee will do without us this 
year.” 

“Who, that good-looking pa of yours?” said 
Mabel Binks, who was seated right in front of 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


119 


us, with the Juniors, as usual. “Why, IT1 wager 
he can find someone to take your place. I bet 
he’s having a pretty good time with you kids 
ofif his hands.” 

Dum’s hands clinched and unclinched. Her 
eyes were closed and her lips moving. I had 
not lived with the Tucker Twins for several 
weeks without finding out what that meant. 
When Dum did that way, it meant she was try- 
ing to control her temper. Her lips formed these 
words : “Oh, God, make me good ! Don’t let me 
biff Mabel Binks! Don’t let me biff Mabel 
Binks!” 

For a moment the wicked wish came into my 
heart that she would “biff Mabel Binks”; but 
when I thought of the consternation it would 
arouse in Gresham and the disgrace to our class, 
to say nothing of poor hot-headed Dum, I felt 
ashamed of myself for harboring such a mili- 
tant desire. I slipped my hand over Dum’s 
clenched fist and in a moment I felt it relax. 

“Thank you, Page. God answered my prayer 
quicker than usual, thanks to you,” and Dum 
gave a great sigh of relief. “It seemed to me 


120 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


almost like it would be wrong if I didn’t hit her. 
Zebedee would fight for us any day and I don’t 
see why I can’t fight for him.” 

“Well, when you come down to facts, Dum, 
Mabel Binks did not say anything derogatory 
of your father. She said he was good-looking 
and intimated that he was naturally popular. I 
fancy she would like to go to the Thanksgiving 
game herself with him. There is nothing for 
you to fight about. I have an idea that Mr. 
Tucker can take care of himself enough not to 
take her to the game at least,” I whispered ; and 
Dum laughed aloud so that Mabel turned 
around and asked, “What’s the joke?” And 
Dum had the satisfaction of saying in honeyed 
tones: “One of the kid jokes that I fancy you 
would not appreciate.” 

The game of football at first impressed me 
as little more than a tangle of legs, and a dog 
fight at Bracken had more sense to it; but as 
Dum explained the points, I began to see some 
method in the seeming madness of twenty-two 
boys lying down on one poor ball and yelling. 
Needless to add, I very soon became as enthusi- 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 121 

astic about that game as all other games I ever 
had any knowledge of, and before the football 
season was over I was as rabid a rooter as the 
Tuckers themselves. 

“I believe you are a born lover of games, 
Page, ,, said Miss Sayre, smiling as my enthusi- 
asm got the better of me and I let out a piercing 
shriek in honor of a short, bow-legged boy who 
had seized the ball at a crucial moment and lit- 
erally dodged his way through the Seniors and 
made a goal. The game was between the Sen- 
iors and Sophomores, and of course the Sopho- 
mores of Gresham were in honor bound to root 
for the Sophomores of Hill-Top. 

“Who's all right? Who's all right? 

Shorty! — Shorty! Out of sight!" 

yelled the class for their bow-legged hero, and 
then the Seniors gave him fifteen 'rahs. Sen- 
iors always have a special feeling for Sopho- 
mores and a game between them is usually a 
very friendly bout. Of course the Seniors do 
not exactly want to be beaten, but they take 
a great delight in the prowess of their pet class. 


122 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


In spite of Shorty’s good playing and a great 
deal of good playing from the other ten Sopho- 
mores, the Seniors won, which was quite meet 
and proper. The younger boys had put up a 
good fight and were much applauded by their 
elders. 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


123 


CHAPTER X. 

BOYS. 

After the football game, some of the more 
self-assured boys came over to the visitors from 
Gresham and singled out their friends to con- 
duct them to the tables on the lawn where the 
matron was serving ice cream. 

All the boys spoke to Miss Cox and seemed 
on the most friendly terms with her. I remem- 
bered then that she went over to Hill-Top twice 
a week for the purpose of training a chorus. 
She knew them all by name and chatted with 
them very freely, much more freely than she 
did with any of the girls, except Dum and Dee 
and me. 

“Evidently, Miss Cox understands boys bet- 
ter than she does girls and they understand her,” 
thought I. Her manner with them was frank 
and natural, exactly as it had been with Mr. 
Tucker. 


124 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


A tall, good-looking boy was holding a laugh- 
ing conversation with her about the game. He 
it was who had saved the day for the Seniors 
when it had looked as though the younger class 
would certainly win, owing to the strategic 
movements of the popular Shorty. 

“Didn’t the kid make a fine play, though, Miss 
Cox? It seemed a pity to take the game from 
them; but I tell you, if the Sophomores won 
from the Seniors there would be no living with 
them. They’re rather a cocky lot as it is, bless 
em. 

“Yes, they are fine boys and I wish they might 
have won just this once. They worked so hard 
and you Seniors were playing so lazily you al- 
most let the game slip through your fingers. It 
would have been a good lesson for your team if 
they had lost.” 

“That’s just what I tell them, Miss Cox. I 
hate lazy playing, even if you are up against 
something easy. I believe in playing the game 
to the best of your ability, if it’s nothing but 
push-pins.” 

I certainly liked the way that boy talked and 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


125 


agreed with him. I unconsciously drew nearer 
to where he and Miss Cox were standing, not 
with any idea of being introduced but because I 
was interested in what they were saying. 

“No, you don’t, Miss Buttinsky,” was whis- 
pered in my ear, “Seniors first when there is a 
good thing in sight,” and Mabel Binks crowded 
in front of me and deliberately joined the group 
around Miss Cox. An introduction to the hand- 
some football player naturally followed. I drew 
back abashed. One of the most hateful things 
about Mabel Binks was that she usually at- 
tributed her motives to other persons. She was 
determined to meet this boy and she took for 
granted it was what I was after, too. 

I felt like employing Dum’s method and pray- 
ing not to “biff Mabel Binks,” but I was anxious 
to see what the outcome would be and if the 
handsome youth, whose name I had learned was 
Harvie Price, would be attracted by the charms 
of the stylish Mabel. Mabel was not a bad- 
looking girl, rather handsome, in fact, but a 
trifle too vivid for my taste. Her eyes were as 
black and shiny as new patent-leather shoes ; her 


126 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


abundant hair, coarse and curly ; her lips too full 
and red ; her figure handsome but rather too well 
developed for a girl of seventeen. She was al- 
ways richly dressed and in the latest style. 

The idea of the directors of Gresham in hav- 
ing the pupils dress in blue suits and black hats 
was to do away with the custom of overdressing 
common to many boarding schools. They seemed 
to think that a blue suit was a blue suit. They 
were vastly mistaken, however, as anyone with 
half an eye could see by comparing Mabel Binks 
with Annie Pore. Annie Pore’s appearance I 
have described. Mabel’s suit was a costly affair 
of handsome cloth combined with velvet and 
trimmed with fur. The skirt was slit, showing 
a cerise petticoat ; a cerise crepe de Chine tie gave 
color to her very V-necked blouse; and around 
her velvet sailor she had pinned several large, 
fine ostrich plumes. The latest style of high- 
heeled pumps with cut steel buckles were on her 
feet, making them a little too prominent, con- 
sidering their size and shape. Spotless white 
gloves finished her costume; unless one might 
consider the strong odor of musk perfume the 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 127 

finishing touch. She did look handsome and her 
clothes were pretty and fine, but a little too fine 
for a football match. 

“Oh, Mr. Price,” she gushed, “your playing 
was just grand. All of us were just wild about 
it. I said fit/ not ‘you/ you understand/’ and 
she giggled affectedly. “I think it was real no- 
ble of you to let the kids get any points at all.” 

“Yes, mighty noble,” said Harvie Price, look- 
ing at his dashing admirer rather quizzically, “so 
noble they came mighty near winning the whole 
shooting match.” 

“Isn’t that ice cream they are serving over 
there?” she hinted. “I think ice cream is sim- 
ply grand.” 

“Ah, Miss Binks, you praise my feeble game 
and ice cream with the same words. Fortu- 
nately, ice cream is more easily taken in than 
I am. Hey, you Shorty, come here,” he called 
to the jolly-looking little Sophomore who was 
trotting by. “I want to introduce you to Miss 
Binks. Mr. Thomas Hawkins, Miss Binks. 
Shorty, she’s dying for some ice cream.” 


128 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


“Your humble servitor, madam,” and Thomas 
Hawkins made a low bow. “Shall I bring it to 
you or take you to it?” 

“Bring it here,” said Mabel shortly. Just then 
Harvie Price saw Annie Pore talking to Mary 
Flannigan and Dee. 

“Tell me who that girl is over there, the one 
with the thick yellow plait,” he asked Mabel. 

“Oh, that’s 'Orphan Annie.’ Isn’t she a 
mess ?” 

“Is her name Annie Pore?” 

“I believe it is or poor Annie, if you prefer.” 

“Well, by Jove ! Who would have thought it !” 
and Harvie Price without any apology left the 
dashing Mabel and going up to Annie took her 
by both hands. He shook them warmly and ex- 
claimed: “Little Annie Pore, where on earth 
did you come from? I am glad to see you.” And 
Annie, without the least embarrassment, was 
equally delighted to see him. 

“Oh, Harvie, I did not dream you were here. 
You’ve grown so I didn’t know, you.” 

“Grown! And what have you been doing? 
Certainly not standing still. And how is every- 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 129 

one at the Landing? Geewhilikins, I’d like to 
spend another summer there! Just think, it is 
five years since I have been there.” 

“Every thing is about the same. Your grand- 
father is rather more feeble but as handsome as 
ever.” 

“Yes, I know, poor old Grandad,” said Harvie 
soberly. Annie told me afterward that a fam- 
ily row had separated old General Price from his 
son, Harvie’s father, and for that reason the boy 
had not been allowed to come to his ancestral 
home at Price’s Landing. 

“And how is your father? As British as ever 
and still invisibly clothed in blue paint?” 

“Yes, about the same,” blushed Annie. 

“You know I like your father, Annie, and 
didn’t mean anything,” and the boy looked very 
sorry that he had embarrassed his little friend. 

“That’s all right, Harvie, but you know ” 

“Yes, I know,” he said sympathetically. “Now 
come on and let’s have some ice cream. Who are 
your special friends? Introduce me and I’ll take 
them all.” 

Dum and Dee and Mary Flannigan and I were 


130 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


of course the chosen few, and as soon as Shorty 
had arranged so Mabel Binks could “take in” the 
ice cream, he joined us and a very merry time 
we had. We met many boys and liked most of 
them. They were a healthy, wholesome lot and 
almost as much fun as girls. Miss Cox joined 
us and let herself go with as much abandon as 
she had in the Lobster Quadrille. 

I have never seen anyone so happy as Annie 
Pore. She and Harvie Price had been friends 
from the time they could walk. The boy had 
spent a great deal of his time with his grand- 
father at Price’s Landing and the little English 
maid, whose father kept the country store, was 
the one white child in the neighborhood whom 
the proud old aristocratic General Price consid- 
ered suitable to associate with his grandson. 

“You ought to see Mr. Pore,” Harvie confided 
to me. “I tell you he is a rare one. He is about 
the best educated man I ever met. Grandad 
says he can think in Latin. Be that as it may, 
he can certainly teach it. I had some lessons 
from him during one summer and have been 
grateful to him ever since. He is awfully Eng- 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 131 

lish and just as strict with Annie as can be. Mrs. 
Pore was a beautiful woman and it seemed 
strangely incongruous to see her in the country 
store measuring calico and what not. Grandad 
used to say she looked like a Duchess at a Char- 
ity Bazaar. Nobody at Price’s Landing ever has 
known what brought Mr. Pore to keeping a 
country store in a little Virginia village.” 

“Maybe thinking in Latin wasn’t nourishing,” 
I suggested. 

“I fancy that was it,” he laughed, “but why 
should an Oxford graduate keep a country store 
for a livelihood? There must have been other 
avenues open to him.” 

“Perhaps his beautiful wife discovered she 
had a genius for selling at Charity Bazaars, and 
when the time came to choose a profession, she 
chose what she had shown talent for as an ama- 
teur,” I hazarded. 

“Well, I see Miss Page Allison has some im- 
agination and if she ever has to choose a profes- 
sion it should be novel writing.” 

“Perhaps it will be,” I said, “but I’d rather 
keep a country store than do anything. You can 


132 AT BOARDING SCHOOL 

see so many people that way, ’specially if you 
have the postoffice in it.” 

“You like people, then?” inquired the boy. 

“Like people? I should say I do. I just adore 
people; and I mean to know just as many peo- 
ple as I can.” 

“Well, that is the requisite for successful novel 
writing, so our professor in English tells us: 
'Know people and sympathize with them, all 
kinds and conditions.’ But tell me something, 
Miss Page, does Annie sing? Mrs. Pore’s voice 
brought old sinners to church that had not been 
for many a year. She sang in the choir at the 
little old Episcopal church at Price’s Landing 
and although I was nothing but a kid, — you see 
I have not been there for five years, — I used to 
thrill all over when she chanted the Te Deum 
Laudanius.” 

“Oh, yes, Annie’s voice is splendid. Miss Cox 
is teaching her and I believe she expects great 
things of her. We are to have a concert at Gre- 
sham before long and then you can hear her.” 

I looked over at a group of girls and boys 
where Dum and Annie were talking very gayly 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


133 


with Tom Hawkins, alias Shorty, and smiled to 
think of Annie’s hesitancy in coming that day 
because she was so afraid of boys, and then I 
laughed outright when I considered how little 
Shorty resembled Dum’s hero, Prosper le Gai. 

The ice cream that Shorty brought to Mabel 
Binks must have been as bitter as gall, judging 
from the faces that young lady made while de- 
vouring it, nor did it “set easy on her innards,” 
as Mammy Susan would put it. Could it be 
that she had literally turned green from jeal- 
ousy and the ice cream was innocent, after all? 
It must have been a bitter pill to have the de- 
spised “Orphan Annie,” with her kid friends, 
carry off the most desirable young man at Hill- 
Top. 

“Aren’t you feeling well, Mabel?” said the 
good-natured Josephine Barr, as Harvie Price 
and I passed near her on our way to join the 
group where my special friends were. 

“Yes, I’m just disgusted. Did you ever see 
such a beau grabber in your life as that coun- 
trified Page Allison ? And there’s 'Orphan An- 


134 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


me’ actually posing as a belle! They make me 
sick.” 

I did not hear what Jo answered, but I felt 
that Annie and I were safe in her hands. My 
cheeks were burning as though Mabel had given 
me a real slap. 

“ Don’t you mind, Miss Page. If girls only 
knew how fellows detest that kind of thing! It 
must be awful to be a girl and not fight things 
out. If a boy had insulted me as that girl did 
you just now, I’d either beat him or get beaten 
in short order.” 

“Well,” I said, pulling myself together as I 
realized that after all Mabel Binks was not much 
of a lady, “you see, I have already beaten her, 
although I did not know at the time I was doing 
it. Annie and I have got the 'beaux,’ that is, if 
she means you and Shorty.” 

“Bully for you! That’s the way to talk. I 
see Miss Binks will not pull off anything over 
you. Can Annie defend herself, too?” 

So I told him of the first day at Gresham and 
the cheer the Seniors gave Annie because of her 
come-back at Mabel Binks. 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 135 

“Poor little Annie! I don't see how anyone 
could try to hurt her," and the big boy looked 
very tenderly at his one-time playmate. “I am 
certainly glad she has found such good friends 
at Gresham as you and those wonderful twins, 
and also that nice little square Irish girl who 
looks like a match for our Shorty." 

That night before lights out bell rang, we had 
a little chat in our room. Mary and Annie had 
scurried across the hall in their kimonos. Dum 
was in bed and Dee and I had unearthed some 
slight refreshment in the way of crackers and 
sweet chocolate, which we passed around. 

“I bet Prosper le Gai would have played a 
dandy game of football," said Dum, getting her 
sheets all crumby with crackers. “He always 
smiled in battle. I noticed Harvie Price did, 
too." 

“Do you know, I think Harvie Price looked a 
little like Laurie in 'Little Women,' " said Dee. 

“I always did think so," exclaimed Annie. 
“When you were talking about Laurie this morn- 
ing I thought of Harvie. I never dreamed of 
seeing him. I'm so glad you girls liked him." 


136 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


“I tell you he's all right," said Mary, “but 
I wouldn't be at all astonished if Charles O'Mal- 
ley wasn't just such another boy as Shorty when 
he was a kid." 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


137 


CHAPTER XI. 

LETTERS AND SEVERAL KINDS OF FATHERS. 

From Page Allison to Miss Sue Lee, Washing- 
ton, D. C. 

My dearest Cousin Sue: 

You told me not to write to you until I had 
got real settled and could give you some decided 
opinions about the place and the people. I am 
settled now and feel as though I had been born 
and bred here. I just love it and am making 
loads and loads of friends. 

First thing I must tell you how right my 
clothes are. It is splendid not to have to think 
about them, but just to put them on and know 
that they are suitable. Some of the girls here 
are great dressers, in spite of the endeavors of 
the directors to put them into a kind of uniform, 
but I can’t see that their fine clothes make them 
any more popular than the others. Do you 
know, Cousin Sue, I’d rather be popular than 
be president? 

My roommates, the Tucker twins, are awfully 
popular, but they don’t care nearly so much about 
it as I do. You see, they have been knowing 
lots of people all their lives and I haven’t. Some- 
times I am afraid I’ll get kind of mealy-mouthed 


138 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL' 


in my anxiety to have people like me, and the 
only thing that saves me from it is my hatred 
of fools and snobs. I know I shouldn’t hate 
fools because they can’t help it, but I think snobs 
ought to be hated. 

We have become acquainted with some boys 
from Hill-Top, the academy on the other side 
of the town. They are real nice and I find I 
am not at all embarrassed with them. They are 
not a bit beauy or lovery (the Tuckers and I 
would hate that), but they are just boys and 
have got lots more sense than I expected to find 
in the male sex. 

The Juniors here at Gresham are lots of them 
beau crazy. They talk about boys from morning 
till night. I do hope when I get to be a Junior 
I won’t go through that stage. Miss Sayre, a 
lovely girl and too nice to me for anything, a 
pupil teacher and at least nineteen, says she has 
never known but one girl in her life who arrived 
at her age without going through the stage of 
talking about boys all the time, and she says that 
poor girl was dumb and she took it out in mak- 
ing eyes. Dum and Dee and I told her we’d 
cut out our tongues before we’d make boys our 
sole topic of conversation, and Miss Sayre just 
laughed and asked us if we would gouge out our 
eyes, too. 

I am doing very well in my studies, and work- 
ing awfully hard. You see, we have to spend 
a certain time over our books and learn in spite 
of ourselves. French is coming easy to me and 
I believe it is because Father has drilled me so 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


139 


thoroughly in Latin. I am getting on top of 
Mathematics by the hardest kind of climbing. 
At first I felt as though I'd have to remove 
mountains ever to learn a thing, but now I re- 
alize I don’t have to remove mountains, but just 
climb them; and certainly as you climb you get 
an outlook that you never dreamed of. 

Father writes very cheerfully but I am afraid 
he is mighty lonesome. I feel very selfish to be 
off here having such a good time when I know 
how hard it is for him. I wish you would write 
him a nice long letter. Your letters always do 
him good. 

I like Miss Peyton, our principal, ever and 
ever so much; she is so just. All of the teach- 
ers are pretty nice, but I am not getting quite 
as much from the English Literature teacher as 
I hoped I would. She is a good teacher, I have 
no doubt, but not interesting. I have the feeling 
that she likes what the textbooks tell her to, and 
has no taste of her own. Her knowledge of 
poetry, for instance, stops with the age of Ten- 
nyson. 

You know Father’s extravagance and relaxa- 
tion is poetry, past, present and even future. He 
has been reading poetry to me since before I 
could talk, and a new poet is more interesting 
to him than a new disease. He had never told 
me that poetry had to arrive at a certain age, 
like veal or cheese, before it was worthy to be 
taken in; and I brought down the scorn and 
wrath of Miss Prince on my devoted head and 
came mighty near getting enough demerits to 


140 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


keep me in bounds a week, because I asked her 
if she did not think Masefield’s poem of “The 
Dauber” had more atmosphere of the deep sea 
in it than “The Ancient Mariner.” She looked 
at me very severely through her visible bi-focals 
and said: “Miss Allison, this is a class in Eng^ 
lish Literature; and matters foreign to the sub- 
ject are not to be discussed.” 

I rather miss the reading I have always done. 
We study so hard there is no time to read, and 
the library is one of these donated ones. It 
has sets of Dickens and Scott in such fine print 
that you can’t keep your place, a few odd vol- 
umes of Thackeray, Milton and Pope, and the 
rest of the shelves are crowded with books that 
some generous patron evidently has had no use 
for himself. They are the kind of books that 
Father says are good enough* to keep the doors 
open with or to put under a rocker when you 
don’t want to rock. 

There is a good encyclopedia and dictionary 
and our textbooks are very complete. I believe 
it is good for me to have to confine myself to 
the textbooks for a while, but I shall be glad 
to be at Bracken again and curl up on the sofa 
with the dogs some dull old rainy day and read 
as long as I can see. 

Some day I hope you will know my friends. I 
have told them all about you and they think you 
are splendid. The Tucker twins are going to 
stay a few days at Bracken during the holidays, 
and I am to be with them for a week-end in 
Richmond. It will be a more agreeable visit than 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 141 

the time I spent with Cousin Park Garnett, I 
fancy. By the way, Cousin Park sent me a pres- 
ent the other day. You could never guess what 
it is: a black and purple crocheted shoulder 
shawl ! I’m real glad to have it because we are 
going to have a dicker party and it will be the 
very thing to contribute. 

You don’t know how much obliged I am to you 
for the huge box of marshmallows. We have 
not opened it yet, as we are saving up for a 
grand spread that Dum and Dee and I are go- 
ing to give. Good-by, dear Cousin Sue. 

Yours devotedly, 

Page. 

Mr. Jeffry Tucker to the Misses Virginia and 
Caroline Tucker. 

Richmond, Va. 

November 28, 19 — 

My dearest Tweedles: 

How am I ever to get through Thanksgiving 
without you? Of course I’m going to the game 
to root for Virginia, but I’ll be mighty lone- 
some. I’ve been invited to join several parties, 
but I believe I’ll take old Brindle and go by my 
lonely. The only pleasure I take in Thanks- 
giving is that it is just a little nearer to Christ- 
mas, when I’ll have my babies back with me for 
a delirious three weeks. 

I miss you so much that I can’t remember 
what my reason was for thinking it best for you 
to go to boarding school. I must have had some 
good reason, but it is swallowed up in misery 


142 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


over your absence. Could it have been that you 
needed training and to learn to control your- 
selves? Foolish nofion! When you come home 
you can fight all over the shop if you’ve a mind; 
and sass your pa until he crawls under the bed 
with Brindle; and get late to your meals; and 
go around with holes in your stockings; do any- 
thing, in fact, that your fancy dictates. All I 
ask of you is to come home the same old Twee- 
dles, loving your poor, lonesome, old Zebedee as 
much as ever. 

I am delighted that you are making so many 
good friends. There is nothing in all the world 
like friends and the ones made in early years 
are worth all the others put together. 

Please remember me to Miss Page Allison and 
tell her I saw her father the other day, and 
he was looking mighty fit, considering he has 
not had her to take care of him for so long. He 
had come up to Richmond for a medical conven- 
tion. I am glad you are enjoying Miss Page so 
much. I liked her on short acquaintance better 
than any friend you have ever had. I am de- 
lighted that you have invited her to spend some 
of the holidays with us. I asked Dr. Allison 
if he could spare her to us for a few days, and 
he said of course he could. You girls seem to 
have a mutual admiration society. Miss Page, 
according to Dr. Allison, is as enthusiastic about 
my girls as my girls are about his girl. 

I am intensely gratified that the three of you 
have kept up with the poor scared child we met 
on the train. Such a wholesome trio would be 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


143 


sure to be good for the timid, miserable little 
thing. You must ask her to come to see us in 
Richmond if you have not already done so. 

I am sending you a box of goodies for your 
day-after-Thanksgiving spread. I am afraid 
some of the things are contraband, but people 
who make rules would not make them unless 
they expected schoolgirls and their outrageous 
young fathers to break them. I fancy I have 
concealed the true nature of the contents of the 
box, and unless the supervision is very thor- 
ough, it will pass muster and the contraband ar- 
ticles find the way to their destination — your lit- 
tle insides. Love to Jinny Cox. 

Good-by, 

Zsbkdi^. 

Dr. James Allison to Miss Page Allison. 

Bracken, Sunday aft. 

My dear little daughter: 

I saw young Jeffry Tucker in Richmond last 
week and what he had to tell me of my girl 
gratified me greatly. I am not going to divulge 
to you what he said, but you may know it was 
something pretty nice. 

I miss you very much, my dear Page, but poor 
old Mammy Susan is worse off than I am be- 
cause she is at home all the time and I am off 
on my rounds, and when I am at home, thank 
God, I have books. I do not mean to say that 
books take the place of my girl, but I mean I 
can bury myself in them and for the time being 
be oblivious to everything else. 


144 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


Sally Winn is still trying to die, poor woman. 
I was called out in the wee small hours this 
morning to help her cross the Styx. She has 
been more determined than ever since Mrs. 
Purdy passed over. She is very jealous and 
said this morning: “Betty Purdy always was a 
pushing thing. She made out all the time she 
didn’t want to go but that’s not so, I know. 
She’s been getting ahead of me all her life. Pre- 
tended she married Purdy because he was so 
bent on it that she had to. Everybody knows it 
was just the other way, she was so bent on it, 
Purdy had to.” Of course you must have heard 
that Mr. Purdy courted Sally first. I suggested 
that it would be well if she tried to live and per- 
haps she might console the widower ; and do you 
know, I left her with a much stronger pulse. 

I hope your Thanksgiving will go off finely. 
I cannot tell you how we long for you, my dear ; 
but Christmas will soon be here, and in the mean- 
time I am going to bury myself in a new book 
I got in Richmond last week. 

I am so glad for you to make these good 
friends you write of. The Twins sound delight- 
ful. Tucker is one of the best fellows I know. 
He is ridiculously young to be the father of 
girls as old as you. He is one of the cleverest 
newspaper men in the South, so clever I wonder 
the South keeps him. New York newspapers 
seem to suck in all the bright men sooner or 
later. 

I am so glad your friends will come to Bracken 
for a visit with you during the holidays, and I 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


145 


will of course let you go to them for a visit. I 
may run up to the city at the same time. Cousin 
Park Garnett has made me promise to stay with 
her the first time I go to Richmond, so I am 
afraid the trip will not be altogether hilarious 
for me. 

The dogs send love to their mistress in yaps, 
yowls and whines. Mammy says she hopes “you 
ain’t done wash all de meat ofif’n you in dem 
plumbin’ tubs.” 

With much love, 

Father. 

From Mr. Arthur Ponsonby Pore to Miss An- 
nie de Vere Pore. 

Price’s Landing, Va. 

My dear Annie: 

I am most gratified at the account you give 
of the progress you are making in your studies. 
The authenticity of your account is verified by 
the report I have received from the principal of 
the institution. 

I am surprised and grieved that you should 
find your wardrobe not sufficient for your needs. 
There is a vulgar tendency among all Ameri- 
cans to overdress which you must avoid. Re- 
member that in your veins flows the blood of 
Ponsonby and de Vere and that is more to be 
considered than all the fine clothes in the world 
of the nouveau riche . I will send you the box 
containing some old lace and a white dress of 
your Mother’s. If that is not suitable, I think 


146 AT BOAEDING SCHOOL 

you had better not appear at the concert of which 
you write. 

I also wish to warn you against undue inti- 
macies with persons of whom you know little or 
nothing. The sacrifice I am making in send- 
ing you to boarding school is not that you may 
amuse yourself with friends no doubt beneath 
you in birth and breeding but that you may per- 
fect yourself in your studies and cultivate your 
voice, which may prove of material benefit to 
you. 

General Price called on me yesterday and told 
me he had received a letter from his grandson, 
Harvie, in which he had mentioned the fact that 
he had met you at a football game. I hope you 
are not wasting much of your time in such friv- 
olous pursuits. 

Yours truly, 

Arthur Ponsonby Pore;. 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


147 


CHAPTER XII. 

ANNIES MOTHER. 

We were rather troubled about Annie Pore 
and what on earth she was going to wear to the 
concert. Her wardrobe, not being extensive, 
was well known to all of her friends and cer- 
tainly there was nothing suitable in it for a girl 
who was going to have to stand up on the stage 
and sing. 

“If she would only not be so proud,” groaned 
Dum; “but who could say to Lady Clara Vere 
de Vere, ‘Let me lend you some of my duds?’ 
Now I shouldn’t in the least mind borrowing 
anything from anybody if I thought the person 
cared for me. Don’t I wear the Liberty scarf 
your Cousin Sue sent you every time I find it 
idle, and if I could borrow from you, Page, 
why shouldn’t Annie?” 

“Well, it is different, Dum, because Annie 
hasn’t got anything. You borrow the scarf just 
as a frill, but if it were a necessity I don’t be- 


148 AT BOARDING SCHOOL 

1 

lieve you would.” I had intense sympathy for 
Annie because I could fancy what my own 
clothes would have been if dear Cousin Sue 
Lee had not had them in charge. Miss Pinky 
Davis, our country dressmaker, would have 
turned out just such another crooked seamed 
suit as Annie's if Cousin Sue had not insisted on 
a mail order, and I know my shirtwaists would 
have been big where they should have been lit- 
tle, and little where they should have been big; 
and as for Middy blouses, there is no telling 
what they would have looked like: rick-rack 
trimming on the collar, no doubt, and ruffles 
around the tail. Cousin Sue did let Miss Pinky 
make me some white evening dresses and they 
turned out all right because Cousin Sue bridled 
Miss Pinky’s fancy. 

“Let me see,” said Dee, “as far as I can re- 
member Annie has a blue serge skirt, two white 
shirtwaists, one blue poplin one and a plaid silk 
blouse for Sunday. I can’t bear to think of her 
on the stage in any of that array. Of course 
it makes no difference to any of us, but think 
of that nasty Mabel Binks and her following! 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


149 


Ugh ! I tell you one thing,” she added excitedly, 
“if any of them make Annie feel bad, they’ve 
got me to fight.” 

“Me, too,” chimed in Dum. 

“Well, I can’t see that that would help An- 
nie’s clothes much,” I laughed, “but it might 
keep you, Tweedles, from having apoplexy.” 

“Dee, you’ve got so much tact, you go see An- 
nie and find out what she is going to wear,” sug- 
gested Dum. 

“Oh, no, not me ! I’m so afraid I might leak, 
and that would never do,” and Dee got out a 
handkerchief ready for emergencies. “You see, 
I feel so bad about Annie and so desperately 
sorry for her that I have to cry just thinking 
about her, and what would it be if she should 
get out her poor little blouses and ask my ad- 
vice? Just think of all the clothes Jo Barr has, 
simply going to waste and how old Jo would 
love to dress Annie up in them! Still, we all 
know that Annie would be cut to the quick at 
the suggestion of such a thing. Oh, dear, oh, 
dear! I wonder what Zebedee would do.” 

“Well, I know what I am going to do,” I said, 


150 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


uncurling myself from the window sill where I 
could, by a good deal of craning of the neck, 
catch a glimpse of my beloved mountains; “I’m 
going in and have it out with Annie. She knows 
I love her and I don’t believe I’ll hurt her feel- 
ings. I think she trusts us, and when you really 
trust people they simply can’t hurt your feel- 
ings unless you have a natural born chip on 
your shoulder, which Annie hasn’t.” 

“Oh, Page, you are just like Zebedee,” 
tweedled the twins. “That’s what he would 
do.” 

I found Annie looking very like old Rain-in- 
the-Face. She was in a forlorn heap on the 
floor; her eyes red; her ripe- wheat hair all 
disheveled; and in her hand a crumpled letter. 
On the floor by her was an unopened box which 
had just come by parcels post. 

Her “Come in” in answer to my knock had 
been more like a sob than an invitation to en- 
ter. 

“What is it, dear Annie? Tweedles and I 
have just been talking about you and we wonder 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 151 

if you know how much we love you. Do you?” 

“Oh, Page, I don’t see how you can!” 

“Well, we do, and I said I believed you loved 
us enough to trust us. I mean to understand 
that we could never hurt your feelings in any 
possible way, just because we’d rather be boiled 
alive than hurt you.” 

Annie looked up and smiled a rather watery 
smile, but a smile all the same. 

“Now s’pose you trust me and tell me what 
is the matter. What are friends for if you can’t 
tell them your troubles?” 

“Oh, Page, I’d like to tell you, but it would 
seem so disloyal to my Father.” 

“You understand, Annie, that if you tell me 
anything it would be just like telling it to a 
Father Confessor. I mean I’d never breathe a 
word of it.” It sounded as though I were full of 
curiosity, but while of course I did want to 
know, my reason for pressing Annie was that I 
felt she needed to let off steam, that is, her pent- 
up emotions. 

“I know you are the best friend any girl ever 


152 AT BOARDING SCHOOL 

had and I believe I will tell you all about every- 
thing” 

“Well, wash your face first and let me brush 
your hair while you talk.” 

So Annie got up and bathed her face, and 
while I combed and brushed her thick, yellow 
hair, she told me the following tale: 

“You see, Page, my Father is an English- 
man and he is awfully proud. He does not un- 
derstand a little girl a bit nor did he understand 
my beautiful Mother. He loved her, though, 
adored her, in fact, and I know has never been 
happy one minute since she died; that’s been 
about four years now. He does not love me, 
though, I am afraid; but maybe I do him an in- 
justice and don’t understand him. Anyhow, he 
is never chummy and chatty with me like Mr. 
Tucker is with Tweedles.” 

“I bet he does love you, Annie. My Father 
is not so intimate with me as Mr. Tucker is with 
his girls, but I know he loves me. You see, Mr. 
Tucker is almost the same age as his daughters 
and I fancy your Father is much older than 
you are, just as mine is.” And I went on brush- 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


153 


ing her hair, knowing she was becoming calmer 
and beginning rather to enjoy talking about her- 
self. 

“My Father, you know, is very well born; in 
fact, his Father was a baronet of very ancient 
stock and his elder brother now has the title and 
estates. Father was educated for the church. 
He has an Oxford degree and is very scholarly. 
However, after all his education, he did not want 
to take orders. He felt that he had no vocation 
for the ministry, and he and my grandfather 
had an awful row about it. You see, English 
younger sons have to do something. Mother 
told me all this. Father has never mentioned 
it to me. He occasionally reminds me that I 
am of good birth and that is his only reference 
to England. Immediately after this row with 
Grandfather, he met Mother and fell in love with 
her at first sight. It was at a Charity Bazaar.” 

“Oh !” I exclaimed involuntarily, but 

made out I was sneezing. I remembered the 
conversation I had held with Harvie Price about 
Mrs. Pore and the Charity Bazaar. 

“Mother’s people are noble, too. She was the 


154 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


daughter of a younger son of the Earl of Garth, 
but she had not a penny to her name. When 
she met my Father, she was visiting some very 
wealthy relatives who were interested in her and 
preparing to launch her on the concert stage. 
Mother had a wonderful voice, you know. ,, 

“Yes, Harvie Price told me that all the old 
sinners in your county went to church to hear 
her sing.” 

“Well, Mother fell in love, too, and in spite 
of all that her rich relatives had to say about 
her career, she married Father; and then what 
did Grandfather, Sir Isaac Pore, do but stop 
Father’s allowance? It was not very much but 
it was enough for the young couple to live on if 
they lived very simply. Sir Isaac thought he 
could force Father into taking orders; but 
Father was opposed to doing this, feeling he was 
not suited to the Church, and Mother upheld him 
in his resolve.” 

“They were right, I think. It seems an awful 
sin to me for a man just to go into the ministry 
for a living,” I ventured. 

“Of course they were right. Then my par- 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


155 


ents were in a quandary. Father had about 
two thousand dollars to his name and that 
wouldn’t go very far. They decided to come to 
America, he to go into some kind of business and 
Mother to do something with her voice. They 
stayed in New York for a year. He got some 
teaching, coaching boys for college, and she sang 
in a church. Mother said they had a hard time. 
Father’s manner was proud and overbearing and 
he was so intolerant of Americans that he lost 
pupils constantly. Then my brother was born 
and Mother had to give up her position in the 
church.” 

“Oh, I did not know you had a brother!” I 
exclaimed. 

“Yes, he died before I was born. He lived 
five years, I believe. I think that is one reason 
Father does not love me more. You see, all of 
his hopes were settled on the boy, who was in 
line for the title. My uncle, the present baronet, 
has no boys. Well, they got on the best they 
could until the boy died. They went from place 
to place, Father always able to get pupils because 
of his talents and education and always losing 


156 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


them because of his proud intolerance. Mother 
had lots of tact and charm and she was always 
smoothing things over and pacifying Father.” 

“She must have loved him a whole lot not to 
have pacified him with a big stick,” I thought, 
but I did not give utterance to my reflection. 

“They finally landed in Norfolk. I was born 
there, so you see, I am a Virginian. While at 
Norfolk, Mother heard of the country store at 
Price’s Landing which could be bought for very 
little. She had come into possession of a small 
legacy, and she immediately bought the store 
and all the stock and we moved there and have 
been there ever since.” 

“English people are always getting small lega- 
cies. I never heard of Americans getting them,” 
I said as I plaited Annie’s hair in the great rope 
that was the envy of us all. 

“We really have prospered at Price’s Land- 
ing. Mother took charge of the store a great 
deal and by her graciousness won customers; 
and when once people get used to Father, they 
don’t seem to mind his stiffness so much ; every- 
body but me; somehow, I’m always afraid of 



“From Mother!” exclaimed the girl, trembling with 
excitement . — Page 156. 



















































































WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 157 

him,” and Annie looked very sadly at the crum- 
pled letter in her lap. 

“Mother was so gay and cheerful; I wish I 
could be like her. She would sing at her work 
and Father would smile and look almost happy 
when he would hear her voice.” 

“Don’t you sing at your work ever?” I asked. 

“No, no, I am so afraid of disturbing Father.” 

“I bet he’d like it. Why don’t you try? Your 
voice must be like your Mother’s.” 

“Oh, I couldn’t — really, Page. Well, to go 
on: 

“Mother used to play a lovely game with me, 
and no one knew we were playing it, which made 
it just so much more fun. We used to pretend 
while we were keeping store that it was a Char- 
ity Bazaar ” (I laughed aloud) “especially 

when dear old General Price came in for any- 
thing. You see, most of the people at Price’s 
Landing, while very kind and good, are quite or- 
dinary ; but General Price is very aristocratic and 
fine, and we could play the game with him to 
perfection. He had so much manner that some- 
times it almost seemed that he was playing, too.” 


158 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


This was too delicious, and here was I sworn to 
secrecy! I certainly did want to tell Harvie 
Price, but a Father Confessor must keep many 
good things to himself. 

“Mother died when I was eleven.” I made a 
rapid calculation how long poor Annie must have 
been wearing the old crepe hat. “Since then, 
Father and I have looked after the store to- 
gether and now we have a clerk,” only Annie 
called it “dark.” “We are not so poor as we 
used to be and the books show we are making 
a very comfortable living, but Father saves and 
saves. He started doing it before Mother died 
and it worried her a lot. She said he used to 
be a great spender and she had to do the sav- 
ing, but when money began to come more easily 
he seemed to hate to part with it. She made 
him promise before she died that I should go 
to boarding school or I know it would never 
have come about. Of course he doesn’t know 
how girls of the day dress and how odd I look, 
but even if he did know I believe he would let me 
be ridiculous rather than spend money on any- 
thing that he considered unnecessary.” Annie’s 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 159 

eyes flashed, which was an improvement on the 
eternal tears she seemed so prepared to shed. 

“I am going to let you read this letter from 
him so you can see,” and she handed me the 
crumpled sheet. It was the letter which is in 
the last chapter. 

It was certainly some letter. I could not help 
comparing it with the one I had just received 
from my Father, and also one that Tweedles had 
read me from their Zebedee. I hardly knew 
what to say but I knew what to think, and that 
was that one of the so-called “vulgar Ameri- 
cans” ought to give him a good beating! 

“Well, Annie, I wouldn’t mind that letter. 
Your Governor evidently doesn’t understand 
girls. Let’s have a look in the box.” We cut 
the string and took off the outside wrapper. The 
box was tightly corded. 

“It is just as Mother left it,” sighed Annie. 
“He didn’t even open it to see if the things in 
it were of any value for me. I’m glad he didn’t, 
because I like to feel that I am untying her knots 
myself.” 


160 AT BOARDING SCHOOL 

We didn’t cut those strings, but Annie care- 
fully and reverently picked loose the knots. 
When the top was taken off the box, there was a 
faint smell of dried rose leaves. The contents 
were carefully wrapped in blue tissue paper. 
“To keep the things from turning yellow with 
age,” whispered Annie. 

I felt somehow as though I were at a funeral. 
Annie didn’t cry, though, as one might have ex- 
pected, but her countenance shone with a kind 
of subdued light and she looked like an angel. 
She shook out a soft, white, crepe de Chine dress 
made over silk. It looked as fresh as though 
it had just come from the dressmaker’s. In an- 
other wrapper was a lovely real lace scarf and 
in yet another some white silk stockings. 
/“Oh, Annie, Annie!” and I jumped up and 
down for joy. “They are exactly right for you ! 
And see how carefully they have been packed! 
Not a wrinkle in the dress ! Here, take off your 
clothes and try it on.” 

“Mother wore it at the Charity Bazaar where 
she met Father. Her rich cousin had just had 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 161 

it made for her,” and the excited child began to 
take off her shabby blouse and skirt. 

“All you will need for the concert is white 
slippers and you will surely wear mine just to 
let me know you love me,” I begged. 

Annie flushed and I was afraid her stubborn 
pride was going to master her, but she astonished 
me by saying: “Yes, I will wear them if you 
will lend them to me. I remember Mother told 
me she had to borrow slippers from a friend that 
night, but she knew her friend loved her and so 
did not mind.” 

I slipped the dress over her head, but as she 
pushed her arm into the sleeve she stopped and 
drew her hand quickly out. 

“Wait, the sleeve is pinned.” So it was, and 
pinned through a letter that was sealed and ad- 
dressed to Annie. 

“From Mother !” exclaimed the girl, trembling 
with excitement. “Every now and then I find 
a little note from her. She knew she could not 
live for a long time before she died.” Out flut- 
tered two ten-dollar bills and a five wrapped in 
a tiny penciled note. 


162 


AT BOABDING SCHOOL 


My Darling: 

The time may come when you will wish to 
wear this dress that I have saved so carefully 
for you ; and when that time comes you may also 
want a little money that perhaps you will not 
have, money for clothes, I mean. I give you 
this twenty-five dollars for your very own, to 
spend as your needs require. It is not much, 
but it may help you to look like other girls. 
Fathers do not always understand what girls 
need, but Mothers know. I earned this 
money myself, giving singing lessons to the 
blacksmith's daughter and you helped me by 
keeping store while I taught, so you can take 
added pleasure in spending it. 

Mother. 

Something happened right here that was to 
say the least unexpected: I, Page Allison, gave 
up and cried like a baby. I know I hadn't cried 
so since old Buster, my pointer, died. And An- 
nie Pore, instead of bawling, which she would 
have been perfectly justified in doing, never shed 
a tear; but with that exalted look on her face, 
which she had worn from the time she opened 
the box, she actually comforted me by patting 
me on the back and smoothing my hair. 

“Page, Page, it's all right; don't be so miser- 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 163 

able,” she said as she endeavored to soothe me. 
So I blew my blooming nose and made her go 
on trying on the dress. It was a wonderful fit, 
just a little too long for a girl of fifteen, but we 
hemmed it up in no time. Strange to say, al- 
though the dress was more than twenty years 
old, it was not out of style but cut very much 
according to the prevailing mode. The truth of 
the matter is that Dame Fortune is quite like 
the old preacher who wrote a barrel of sermons, 
and when he had preached them all, .he just 
turned the barrel up-side-down and began again. 
Fashions and styles get put in the barrel only 
to appear again after so many years. 

“Have you a catalogue for a mail-order house, 
Page? Because I want to spend my money right 
off.” 

“Yes, Fll get it for you just as soon as my 
nose dies down a little. I don’t want Tweedles 
to know I’ve been crying. What are you going 
to get?” 

“Plenty of middy blouses and a good skirt to 
wear with them, some dancing slippers and some 


164 AT BOARDING SCHOOL 

kind of simple dress I can put on in the evening, 
if the money can be stretched to it.” 

I was sure it could with careful ordering; and 
in a few minutes I thought my nose would bear 
inspection, so I went back to 117 to get the cata- 
logue. Tweedles was out visiting, so I did not 
have to run the gauntlet of their curiosity. 

Annie and I soon found exactly the right 
things in my wonder book, and we had the letter 
written ordering the things before the warning 
bell rang for visiting to cease. 

“I fancy Father would be awfully cut up if he 
could know I am spending all of this money on 
my clothes ; but he needn’t know anything about 
it. I can wear my old things during the holi- 
days and next summer ” 

“Oh, Annie,” I broke in, “you are making an 
awful mistake if you do not let your Father 
know all about this letter from your Mother, and 
take him into your confidence immediately. It 
wouldn’t be fair to him if you didn’t.” 

“Not fair to Father! I never thought of such 
a thing. I am afraid he will be awfully angry 
with me.” 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


165 


“How could he be? Aren’t you doing exactly 
what your Mother tells you to? I tell you, honey, 
it pays every time to be perfectly frank. You 
try and see if it doesn’t.” 

The warning bell rang and I had to beat a 
hasty retreat, but before I went I kissed poor 
little Annie and she clung to me and whispered : 
“I know you are right and I’ll write to Father 
to-morrow and send him Mother’s letter.” 

“That’s a good girl; but, Annie, get your 
letter oil to New York for your things first be- 
fore the Governor has time to veto it.” 

“Well, what ho!” exclaimed the twins as they 
tore in to our rooms, undressing as they came 
to beat the lights out bell to bed. “Tell us all 
about Annie !” 

“There’s nothing to tell,” I declared, making 
the mental reservation that there was nothing 
I could tell, “except that her father sent her a 
pretty white crepe de Chine dress that she is 
going to look charming in, and she has consented 
to borrow my white slippers for the occasion.” 

“Oh, how splendid!” cried Dum. But Dee 
looked at me very solemnly and said: “Page 


166 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


Allison, I know where to put my confidence. 
Annie Pore has told you the story of her life 
and wild horses could not drag it from you. I 
wouldn’t have even known she had told if your 
precious little freckled nose wasn’t as red as a 
cherry.” I felt awfully foolish but I borrowed 
my policy from the Tar Baby “an’ kep’ on sayin’ 
nothin’.” 

After the light was out, I gave a little audible 
chuckle as I lay there going over in my mind the 
very exciting happenings of the evening. I 
chuckled to think what Mabel Binks would say 
if she knew the despised “Orphan Annie” was 
the granddaughter of a baronet on her father’s 
side and the great-granddaughter of an earl on 
her mother’s. 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


167 


CHAPTER XIII. 

THE) CONCERT. 

The concert was a great affair. They had not 
only the singing and playing from the musical 
pupils, but refreshments afterward and a little 
reception. Many of the townspeople came and 
the boys from Hill-Top. Our Assembly Hall 
was full to overflowing. Miss Jane Cox was in 
a highly nervous state. 

“I have two pupils who will sing flat," she con- 
fided to me, “and if they do it to-night, IT1 die 
of mortification/' 

“Well, Annie Pore is going to do you credit, 
anyhow, I feel sure," I said, hoping Miss Cox 
would take a more cheerful view. 

“Yes, I am looking to her to save the day. 
Have you seen her? She looks beautiful." 

I had seen her; in fact, I had hooked her up. 
My slippers fitted finely and Annie's dress was 


168 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


without doubt the best-looking one on the stage 
that evening. 

Mabel Binks headed the programme with a 
flashy selection on the piano. She was in her 
element, showing off. Everything about her pro- 
claimed le dernier cri of fashion. Even her hair 
was the latest creation of twists and rolls. Her 
hands were covered with rings and her arms 
had several bracelets in the form of snakes coil- 
ing around them. These rings and bracelets had 
a way of clicking ever so slightly but just enough 
to accentuate the effect that her performance 
was a purely mechanical one. 

“Pianola, ” whispered Dee to me. Dee and I 
had captured dear old Captain Leahy and made 
him sit between us. The old fellow was in fine 
feather and full of jokes. Miss Peyton smiled 
approval when she saw that we had taken care 
of her old friend, who always came to the school 
entertainments by her especial invitation. 

“And do ye call that music? I’d rather hear 
'Sweet bye and bye’ played on the whistle of an 
engine by a freight engineer on our line than 
that rattle bang. The freight engineer puts some 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 169 

sowl into his worrk, some meaning. He wants 
to let his f rinds know he is a-cooming home, and 
his wife to know that 'tis toime to put on the 
frying pan and get the pot to baling. But that, 
what does that mean? Nothing but nimble fin- 
gers. There's no heart in it, — just noise." 

We heartily agreed with the old man, but at 
the close of Mabel's performance there was such 
a storm of applause from the Juniors who were 
her especial admirers that the perfunctory clap- 
ping from the rest of the audience was com- 
pletely drowned. She bowed and smiled and rat- 
tled her bangles and then sat down and played 
“Annie Laurie" with her foot on the loud pedal 
all the time, and with all the variations possible 
to weave around the beautiful old air. 

“Now isn't that too Mabel Binksy for any- 
thing?" hissed Dum in my ear. She was right 
behind us sitting next to Harvie Price, who had 
sought us out on his arrival at Gresham. “She 
knows perfectly well that Annie Pore is to sing 
‘Annie Laurie,' and she chose that for her en- 
core deliberately and without the knowledge of 
Miss Cox or the piano teacher, either. Cat!" 


170 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


“And why should ye insult poor pussy so, Miss 
Tucker ?” asked the Captain, who had overheard 
Dum’s remark. “I haven’t a cat to me name 
who would do such a trick.” 

Annie followed Mabel immediately. I won- 
dered if she would be upset by Mabel’s having 
just played her song, but she was not a whit. 
She whispered to Miss Cox, who was to play her 
accompaniment and they evidently decided to 
change the program. 

As Annie came on the stage, I verily believe 
half of the girls did not at first recognize her. 
Her dress had that unmistakable air that a good 
dressmaker can give, and twenty years had not 
diminished the style; but it was Annie’s walk 
and manner that astonished everyone, even her 
best friends. Could this be the same, tearful 
little Annie? She wasn’t really little, but I al- 
ways had thought of her as small just because 
she seemed to need protection. She was quite 
as well grown as the Tuckers and a little larger 
than I was. Her carriage had dignity, and there 
was a poise and ease to her that is rare in a 
school girl. Miss Cox played the opening bars 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


171 


to Tom Moore’s beautiful and touching song, 
“Believe me if all those endearing young 
charms/’ and Annie sang with the simplicity 
and confidence of a great artist. 

Believe me, if all those endearing young charms, 
Which I gaze on so fondly to-day, 

Were to change by to-morrow and fleet in my 
arms, 

Like fairy gifts fading away, 

Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment 
thou art, 

Let thy loveliness fade as it will, 

And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart 
Would entwine itself verdantly still. 

It is not while beauty and youth are thine own, 
And thy cheek unprofaned by a tear, 

That the fervor and faith of a soul may be 
known, 

To which time will but make thee more dear! 
No, the heart that has truly loved never forgets. 
But as truly loves on to the close. 

As the sunflower turns to her god when he sets 
The same look which she turned when he rose. 

There is something in that song that touches 
everyone, old and young. As Annie finished, 
for a moment there was perfect silence and then, 
such an ovation as the little English girl did 


172 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


have! Old Captain Leahy beat his peg leg on 
the floor. “Forgetting me manners in me enthu- 
siasm/’ he declared. Annie bowed and smiled, 
no more flustrated than Alma Gluck would have 
been. 

“Did you ever see such stage presence ?” whis- 
pered Dee. “Why, she is more at home there 
than we are in 117 in our kimonos.” 

“That’s because she loves to sing and knows 
she can do it,” and at the risk of being consid- 
ered Annie’s claque, I started fresh applause 
which was taken up by the whole audience; and 
after another whispered conference with Miss 
Cox, Annie sang again. This time it was “Bon- 
nie, sweet Bessie, the maid of Dundee.” These 
were songs her mother had taught her, and I 
could almost fancy the spirit of the mother had 
entered into the daughter. 

“I could almost see her mother as she sang,” 
Harvie Price said to me later on. “I believe An- 
nie’s voice is going to be stronger than her moth- 
er’s and it has the same note of pathos in it. 
Why, it was all I could do to keep from sobbing 
when she sang 'Sweet Bessie.’ And did you see 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 173 

Shorty? Why, Shorty had his face buried in 
his hands, and now he pretends he has caught a 
bad cold! Isn’t she pretty, too? The old man 
must have loosened up some to get that swell 
dress for her. Grandfather wrote me the other 
day that Mr. Pore is so economical these days 
that he won’t go to church because he does not 
want to part with his nickel. He says he is mak- 
ing money, too, on the store, since there is ab- 
solutely no competition at the Landing.” 

“I am so glad you liked her dress,” I an- 
swered, nearly dead to tell this nice, sympathetic 
boy all about it; but keeping to my role of Father 
Confessor, I naturally said nothing about how 
she came by it. 

"I am hoping I can spend part of next sum- 
mer with my grandfather,” continued Harvey. 
“You know my Governor and his Father fell 
out about politics and I had to stop going there, 
but, thank goodness, they have made up now. 
Father would vote for Roosevelt, while Grand- 
father thinks anybody belonging to him must be 
a Democrat. And not long ago Father decided 
that President Wilson was, after all, about the 


174 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


best President we have ever had, so he wrote to 
Grandfather and said he was sorry he had ever 
voted for a Republican ; and now the row is over 
and the family is reunited. Grandfather is very 
arbitrary and of course it is hard to live with 
him, but he is the kindest and most generous old 
man, and I truly love him.” 

“Annie Pore says he is charming and delight- 
ful and that her mother cared so much for him,” 
I said, feeling that that much of Annie’s talk 
with me it would be all right to repeat. This 
conversation with Harvie was after the concert 
when we were having refreshments in the Gym- 
nasium. The concert had gone off very well. 
Miss Cox was jubilant because her pupils who 
would sing flat had refrained for the occasion. 
Miss Cox herself had sung delightfully and had 
won the heart of old Captain Leahy by giving 
“The Wearing of the Green” as an encore. 

When the programme was all over and every- 
one had done the best she could, Miss Peyton 
made a little speech and said that by especial re- 
quest from some of the older guests Miss Annie 
Pore was to sing “Annie Laurie.” 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 175* 

That was really the treat of the evening. We 
were delighted because it made Mabel Binks so 
mad. 

“I am some weary of that sob stuff from 'Or- 
phan Annie/ ” I heard her say to one of the 
Hill-Top boys. 

"Why, I think it is great !” was his unsympa- 
thetic reply. "And what a little beauty she is,, 
too!” 

Once off the stage, Annie’s shyness returned 
in full force, but it soon wore off under the genial 
good fellowship of the Tuckers and Mary Flan- 
nigan, and Harvie’s big-brother air of pride in 
her success, and Shorty’s funny reproaches for 
making him catch such a bad cold. She looked 
very happy, and not even Mabel Binks could mar 
her cheerfulness, although she plainly heard 
Mabel say to a Junior: "I wonder who lent her 
that dress. It certainly looks familiar to me and 
anyone could see it was shortened for the occa- 
sion.” 

My stitches were not so small as they might 
have been ! 


176 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


CHAPTER XIV. 
the; spread. 

Saturday night was a great time for spreads 
as there was no study hall on that evening and 
the girls could come early and stay late. A 
grand feast was in preparation at 117 Carter 
Hall. Mr. Tucker had sent a box that had 
passed inspection at the office, although it was 
filled with contraband articles; but as he wrote 
Tweedles, they wouldn't make rules if they did 
not expect them to be broken. 

“My, I'm glad Miss Peyton doesn't put us on 
our honor not to have cake and such," said Dee 
as she opened up a box stamped with the name 
of a well-known drygoods firm and plainly 
marked in a masculine hand : “Virginia's Shoes, 
the fourth pair she has had since Spring and she 
must be more careful and have her old ones half- 
soled." 

“Isn’t old Zebedee a peach? Look! Tango 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 177 

sandwiches !” (The catalogue to Gresham plainly 
says: "Nothing but crackers, fruit and simple 
candy is allowed to be eaten in the rooms.”) 

"Here are olives done up to look like shoe pol- 
ish, said I, diving into the big box. "And what 
is this big round parcel at the bottom ?” On it 
I read: "Caroline’s winter hat. I think you 
are a very vain girl to insist on your winter hat 
just to wear it home on the train for Christmas. 
I hope it is not mashed but think it would serve 
you right for thinking so much about your ap- 
pearance.” The hat proved to be a great cara- 
mel cake, stuck all over with English walnuts, 
packed so carefully it was not a bit mashed. Jars 
of pickle masqueraded shamelessly as Uneeda 
Biscuit, being ingeniously pasted up in the orig- 
inal wrappers. Cream cheese and pimento sand- 
wiches came dressed as graham wafers; and a 
whole roasted chicken had had a very comfort- 
able journey buttoned up in Dum’s old sweater, 
with a note pinned over its faithful breast say- 
ing that Dum must make out with that sweater 
for another season as Mr. Tucker could not put 
up with her selfish extravagance. 


178 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


We heard afterward that Miss Sears, whose 
duty it had been to inspect this box before it 
was delivered to the girls, had said that she was 
surprised to find that Mr. Jeffry Tucker did not 
spoil the twins nearly so much as she had been 
led to believe. In fact, he seemed to be rather 
strict with them and quite critical. For instance, 
an old sweater that he expected Dum to wear 
through the season was not really fit to be seen 
in! 

There were several boxes of candy, besides all 
the other goodies. They were all marked pep- 
permint but were really candied fruit, chocolates, 
nougat and what not. 

“I tell you, Zebedee is some provider when he 
gets started/' said Dee. “I'm glad I didn't eat 
much dinner and I intend to eat no supper at 
all." 

We were taking stock of our eatables before 
supper bell so we could see how many girls we 
could invite to the spread. It was etiquette at 
Gresham to give a girl fair warning when a 
spread was under way, so she could save space 
and not go and fill up in the dining-room. We 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 179 

wanted to avoid feeling like the old countryman 
who had his first experience with a table d’hote 
dinner. Not knowing there was to be so much 
following the first course, he ate too much of 
it, and afterward loudly lamented: “Thar I sot 
chock full er soup.” 

Annie Pore was, of course, on the list and 
funny little Mary Flannigan and the two Seniors, 
Sally Coles and Josephine Barr. They had been 
especially nice to our crowd and we were anxious 
to show them some attention. That made seven 
in all. 

“We’ve really got food for one more or even 
two,” declared Dee, “but maybe we had better 
go easy because there is really not room for 
more.” 

1 17 was rather crowded with the three beds, 
two bureaus, three chairs and a table, and 
seven girls would just about fill it to over- 
flowing. It did not look like the bare cell that 
had so appalled us on our day of entering 
Gresham. We now had a scrim curtain at the 
window; rugs on the floor; Tweedles had pretty 
Roman blankets on their beds with bright sofa 


180 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


cushions; while I had a beautiful log cabin quilt 
that Sally Winn had pieced for me in between 
her different death throes. The walls were lit- 
erally covered with pennants from many schools 
and colleges with a few pictures that Dum had 
stuck in her trunk, purloined from their apart- 
ment in Richmond. 

“I don’t believe Zebedee will ever miss them, 
and they mean a lot to me,” she had said when 
Dee had expressed astonishment on her produc- 
ing them from her trunk. “I am so constituted 
that I’ve just got to have something beautiful 
to look at every now and then.” The room was 
pleasant and cozy but the crowded walls rather 
got on my nerves. Bracken was so big and sim- 
ple (some people would have called it bare) that 
I could not get used to such a conglomeration 
in a bedroom. I kept my taste to myself, how- 
ever, as they were two to one, and no doubt my 
ideas of decoration were very old-fashioned and 
out of date. 

Sally Coles and Jo Barr, whom we sought out 
before supper, were glad to accept and vowed 
they would eat not a bite before the feast so 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


181 


that they could come perfectly empty. Of course 
Annie Pore and Mary Flannigan were holding 
themselves in readiness for the arrival of the 
promised box from Mr. Tucker, and the news 
of its having come safely to hand was greeted 
with enthusiasm. 

You get tired of any steady food except home 
food and sometimes you think you are tired of 
that, but as a rule you are pretty glad to get 
back to it. I fancy the table at Gresham was 
kept up about as well as any boarding school, 
but we knew that as sure as Tuesday was com- 
ing, roast veal was coming, too; and Wednesday 
would bring with it veal potpie; Thursday, beef- 
steak; and Friday, fish; Saturday, lamb stew 
with dumplings; Sunday, roast chicken; and 
Monday, not much of anything. This certainty 
bored us, and sometimes I used to think if I 
couldn't find , something in the potpie besides 
veal, I'd scream. I had to do a lot of looking 
at the mountains oil Wednesday, somehow. 

A spread was a godsend, and an invitation to 
one was not as a rule given in vain. As Sally 
Coles and I fox-trotted together in the Gym 


182 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


after supper, she whispered in my ear: “It's 
certainly good of you kids to ask Jo and me. 
We’re crazy about coming.” 

“We think it’s pretty nice of you Seniors to 
come. You didn’t even know we are to have 
caramel cake, either, did you?” I answered. 

“Heavens, no ! I’m mighty glad we didn’t ac- 
cept Mabel Binks’s bid to a Welsh rarebit in her 
room. We fibbed and told her we had a partial 
engagement. It was just with each other but 
we didn’t tell her that, and now you Sophomores 
have saved our souls by making our imaginary 
engagement a real one. I hate to tell even a 
white lie, but I’d hate a deal more to have to go 
to a spread of Mabel Binks’s giving. Don’t you 
know the hammers will be flying to-night ? Can’t 
you hear Mabel and those rapid Juniors she runs 
with knocking everything and everybody?” 

“Yes, I reckon the only way to save your skin 
is to stay with her and help knock. But how 
does she manage a rarebit when we are not al- 
lowed to have chafing dishes?” 

“Manages the same way you and the Tuckers 
manage to have caramel cake, I fancy. We are 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 183 

not allowed to have cake, either. Of course it 
is easier to hide a cake than it is a chafing dish, 
especially if the cake is sliced and there are a 
half-dozen empty girls to help. I believe some 
of the girls keep their chafing dishes under their 
mattresses. Did you hide your cake well before 
you came down to supper? It would be the 
psychological moment for some busybody to 
make an inspecting tour — and then, good-by, 
cake !" 

“Oh, you scare me to death !" and I grabbed 
Dee, who was whirling by, trying a brand new 
step with a giddy Junior, and, whispering Sally's 
warning to her, we beat a hasty retreat. Our 
beloved cake was on the table covered with a 
napkin just as we had left it, seemingly, but on 
raising the cloth we discovered that a great 
wedge had been cut out of it. 

“Well, of all the mean tricks!" spluttered Dee. 
“Who do you s’pose ?" 

“Thank goodness, they only took about a 
fourth ! What is left is enough to give all seven 
of us fever blisters. Caramel cake with nuts in 
it always gives me fever blisters," I laughed. 


184 AT BOARDING SCHOOL 

“But I don’t mind. I’ll take the cake, fever blis- 
ters and all, every time.” 

“Me, too! Well, I hope that the thief will 
have a mouth full of them,” said Dee vindic- 
tively. 

“Well, honey, it’s a sight better to have some 
mean girl take off one fourth than some teacher 
in her mistaken zeal take off the whole thing 
and give us demerits, besides. Here’s your 
handkerchief,” I said, picking up a little pink 
crepe de Chine one from the floor. 

“Not mine, I don’t possess such a thing. 
Don’t you know Zebedee and Dum and I use the 
same sized handkerchiefs? When we want a 
handkerchief, we want a handkerchief, not a 
little pink dab. It must be yours.” 

“No, I haven’t any crepe de Chine ones. 
Here’s an initial — B. It certainly is scented up.” 
The finishing touch to Mabel Binks’s costume on 
the afternoon we had seen the game at Hill-Top 
came back to me suddenly: the strong odor of 
musk. The handkerchief smelt exactly the same 
way. 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 185 

“Well, Dee, I reckon it won’t take a Sherlock 
Holmes to say who took the cake, now. Let’s 
not give her back her hanky until to-morrow. 
If we took it to her to-night she would know that 
we are on to her, and she would be just mean 
enough to peach on us and have our cake seized.” 
So we determined, like Dee and Prosper le Gai, 
to “bide our time.” 

What a spread we did have and what fun! 
Dum turned up with two more girls, members 
of our class, and there was enough and to spare. 
Mr. Tucker was as lavish as Mammy Susan her- 
self. We had no plates or glasses, but we had 
plenty of box tops for dishes and our toothbrush 
mugs served as loving cups to drink the very 
sour lemonade Dee made in the water pitcher. 
The same knife carved the chicken, then cut the 
cake. The olives, always difficult to extract from 
the bottle, were poured into the soap dish which 
I had scoured hard enough to suit the most 
squeamish. 

“My, what good eats!” exclaimed Jo Barr. 
“And how did you ever smuggle that cake within 


186 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


the lines ?” We showed her the wrapper it had 
come in and the stern note from Mr. Tucker. 

“Well, if that doesn’t beat all ! I tell you there 
is nothing like being smart enough to keep the 
eleventh commandment: ‘Thou shalt not get 
found out.’ I had a whole fruitcake taken boda- 
ciously from me last year. I am always break- 
ing the eleventh.” And that was so. Poor Jo 
always got caught up with. 

“Well, I tell you one thing,” said the wise 
Sally," “that cake had better skidoo until danger 
of inspection passes. Teachers are a suspicious 
lot.” 

I just got it whisked under a down cushion on 
Dee’s bed when there was a sharp rap on the 
door. “Come in,” we called in a chorus. It was 
Miss Sears, rather astonished at our ready in- 
vitation to enter. 

“Oh, girls, having a spread, are you,” glanc- 
ing sharply at the innocent-looking packages of 
crackers and peppermint candy without coming 
all the way into the room. “Well, I hope you 
will have a nice time.” 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


187 


“Won’t you join us, Miss Sears?” asked Dum 
sweetly. 

“Oh, thank you, no. I am on inspection duty 
to-night,” and she closed the door, never seeing 
that Jo had wrapped the roasted chicken up in 
a spangled scarf she was sporting. That chicken 
had had all kinds of dressing in its fat, young 
life: first its own feathers; then the dressing, 
which is really the un-dressing; then the dress- 
ing, which is really the stuffing; then Dum’s old 
sweater; and now Jo’s fine scarf. 

We proceeded then to put the good, appetiz- 
ing food where nothing short of an X-ray could 
inspect. So thorough were those nine girls that 
not a crumb of cake nor scrap of sandwich was 
left to tell on us. The chicken bones were some 
problem but we decided that if each girl took a 
bone and disposed of it, it would simplify mat- 
ters somewhat. Sally got the wishbone and said 
she was going to gild it and put it on her “mem- 
ory string.” 

When we had eaten to repletion, we demanded 
stunts from those gifted that way. Mary did a 


188 AT BOARDING SCHOOL 

dog fight and new turn she had just mastered: 
going like a mouse. 

“I wish I could think it was a mouse who nib- 
bled the cake/’ sighed Dum. “It kind of hurts 
me all over to feel that somebody did it.” 

“Well, if it was a mouse, I bet it sounded like 
this,” and Mary imitated Mabel Binks’s nasal 
speech until we almost had hysterics. 

“Why do you fancy she took only a hunk in- 
stead of the whole cake?” I asked. “It would 
have been so much more like her to take it all.” 

“That’s the reason she only took part. She 
thought by behaying out of character she would 
throw us off the scent,” suggested Sally. 

“Well, if she wanted to throw us off the scent, 
she shouldn’t have dropped her handkerchief,” 
said Dee. “But let’s forget it and think of some- 
thing pleasant. Annie, you sing, please,” and 
she handed Jo’s guitar to the blushing Annie. 
Annie was always embarrassed when she had to 
sing before a few persons. She got her “stage 
presence” when there was a real audience. 

“What shall it be?” asked Annie. 

“Oh, something real sentimental and lovesick,” 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 189 

demanded Sally, who was supposed to be en- 
gaged; and with a little humorous twinkle in 
her usually sad eyes, Annie sang “Sally in our 
Alleys 

Of all the girls that are so smart 
There's none like pretty Sally; 

She is the darling of my heart, 

And she lives in our alley. 

There is no lady in the land 
Is half so sweet as Sally; 

She is the darling of my heart. 

And she lives in our alley. 

Of all the days that's in the week 
I dearly love but one day — 

And that's the day that comes betwixt 
A Saturday and Monday; 

For then I'm dressed all in my best 
To walk abroad with Sally; 

She is the darling of my heart. 

And she lives in our alley. 


Then Dum and Dee stood back to back and 
buttoned themselves up in their sweaters, which 
they had put on hindpart-before and imperson- 
ated the two-headed woman, Milly-Christine, 
singing a duet, “The mocking bird is singing 
o'er her grave," in two distinct keys. That was 


190 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


an awfully funny stunt and one the Tuckers 
had made up themselves. Before we had half 
exhausted the talent of the assembled guests, the 
bell rang to warn us that lights must soon be out 
and we had to break up. 

The next morning there was a fine crop of 
fever blisters due to the very rich cake. Annie 
Pore and Sally Coles were the only ones who 
escaped with a whole skin. When I handed Ma- 
bel Binks her smelly, pink, crepe de Chine hand- 
kerchief, I noticed that her rather full lips were 
decorated with a design similar to my own. 

“Here’s your handkerchief,” I said. “Cake 
with caramel and nut filling is awfully rough on 
the complexion, isn’t it?” And the girl had the 
decency to blush. 


.WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


191 


CHAPTER XV. 

HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS. 

I could hardly believe that it was I, Page Alli- 
son, who had been off to boarding school. 
Bracken was so exactly as I left it and I dropped 
so easily into my old habits and customs, that I 
felt as though I had only dreamed I had been 
away. The dogs almost ate me up for joy, and 
Mammy Susan had three kinds of hot bread for 
supper. Father and I chatted away for dear 
life for a while, and then we just as naturally 
settled down to a quiet evening of reading, as 
though I had merely been over to Milton to mail 
a letter. He was vastly pleased to have me back, 
and every now and then looked over his glasses 
at me with a very happy smile on his dear, old, 
lean, weather-beaten face; and I lay curled up 
in a big Sleepy-Hollow chair simply devouring 
the last “Saturday Evening Post” that I had 


192 AT BOABDING SCHOOL 

bought on the train coming from Gresham, feel- 
ing that I had about the pleasantest home and 
the best father and kindest Mammy Susan and 
the finest dogs on earth. 

“Mr. Tucker tells me you have asked him 
down to hunt,” I said as I surprised a loving 
glance from Father. 

“Yes, yes, I thought it would be nice if he 
could come when his girls pay you their prom- 
ised visit. He is mighty good company. I de- 
clare he can keep a whole party in a good hu- 
mor,” and Father chuckled, evidently in remem- 
brance of some witticism of Mr. Tucker’s. “We 
are thinking of getting up a deer hunt over in 
the swamp. Jo Winn shot a good-sized buck 
last month and I am told a great many persons 
have seen deer in the distance lately.” 

This was over in a corner of our county where 
many small rivers and creeks formed a perfect 
network, making very inaccessible, marshy land. 
The hunting was as a rule pretty good and dur- 
ing the winter we feasted quite royally on wild 
turkey, partridge and rabbit. Deer, of course, 
were not so plentiful, but an occasional one was 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 193 

shot. It seems strange that Virginia, the first 
state settled, should still be boasting big game. 

“I wish you could take us. Dum and Dee 
would like it a lot.” 

“And you, I fancy, would just go along out of 
politeness,” he teased. 

“Well, you know I’d rather get killed myself 
than kill anything, but the Tuckers have their 
own guns and often go hunting with their father. 
I believe they are very good shots.” 

“If you think they can stand the trip, we’ll 
take them. I know you can stand what I can 
stand, unless boarding school has made you soft. 
Let me feel your arm — ah, as hard as ever.” 

“That’s basketball and gym work. I’d have 
been soft, indeed, if I hadn’t gone in for ath- 
letics. I’m so glad we can go. I’ll write to the 
twins to bring their guns and rough clothes.” 

Christmas day came and went with plenty of 
good cheer and happiness, but none of the hurry 
and bustle of the present-day Christmas in 
town. At Bracken we knew nothing about white 
tissue paper and Christmas seals and bolts of 


194 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


red and green ribbon. Our simple gifts to one 
another were exchanged without much cere- 
mony; and then Father and I got into his buggy, 
with the colt ready to run twenty miles if he 
could get the bit between his teeth, and distrib- 
uted baskets and bags of candy, nuts and 
oranges to our many poor neighbors, colored and 
white. We always had a box of oranges for the 
holidays and simple candy and mixed nuts by 
wholesale quantities. 

“I’d like to take these things around on Christ- 
mas Eve and let the little children think Santa 
Claus brought them, but I know the mothers 
would give them their share right away and then 
there would be nothing for Christmas day.” 

“Well, I believe they think ‘Docallison’ is a 
kind of Santy, anyhow,” I said, as we whizzed up 
to a particularly poor-looking cabin that seemed 
to be simply running over with little nigs. The 
grimy window was black with their dusky faces 
and the doorway was so full that the children in 
front were being pushed out onto the rickety 
excuse for a porch. 

“Howdy, Aunt Keziah ! I hope you and your 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


195 


family are well this beautiful morning,” called 
Father, pulling in the colt and taking from be- 
tween his knees a large hamper literally run- 
ning over with sweets. 

“Chris’mus gif! Chris’mus gif!” came in a 
chorus from all the little mouths. Aunt Ke- 
ziah hobbled out, smacking the little blacks as 
she came with a very horny hand; but they 
seemed to take it as a kind of pleasantry and 
bobbed up grinning from ear to ear. 

“Shet ep, yer lims er Satan! Cyarn’t yer see 
Docallison’s colt ain’t go’nter stan fer no sich 
yellin’s? Chris’mus gif’, Docallison! Chris’mus 
gif, Miss Page!” 

This last came with a voice as soft as the 
wings of a dove, while the tone in which she 
had admonished the little darkies had been as 
rough as a nutmeg grater. You could hardly 
believe the two voices had issued from the same 
lips. Aunt Keziah was the neighborhood “Ten- 
der” : that is, she minded the children whose nat- 
ural guardians had gone away for one reason 
or another, — sometimes to work in the cities, 
sometimes as house servants for the county fam- 


196 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


ilies, where such encumbrances as offspring were 
not welcome. She was paid a small sum for 
each child and always spoke of them as “bo'- 
ders." 

Aunt Keziah had her charity, too, (as who 
has not?) and supported several orphans. These 
she treated with especial kindness, and always 
made the “bo'ders" wait until the objects of char- 
ity were helped to “ash-cake an’ drippin's." 

Father lifted out the heavy basket and the 
pickaninnies swarmed like flies around a mo- 
lasses barrel. 

“Git back, thar, you kinky-haided Gabe. You 
know you ain't nothin' but a bo'der. You let 
dis here lil orphant Minnie git fust grab," and 
Gabe got back and Minnie came proudly up and 
got her bag of candy and nuts. We had tied the 
treat up in separate packages so there could be 
no broken hearts. Mammy Susan had reported 
that Aunt Keziah had two new ones, Milly Jour- 
dan's twins, making fourteen in all. 

“What did you name the twins, your new 
boarders, Aunt Keziah?" I asked. 

Aunt Keziah demanded one thing from her 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 19? 

i 

patrons and that was that she be allowed to name 
her charges. No matter what their names had 
been up to the time they entered her domain, 
they had to be rechristened. A big boy who 
had been called Bill for eight winters was now 
known as Clarence. Mary Banks was Chrysto- 
bel and Mump Davis, a raw-boned, fiery-look- 
ing boy, part Indian, seethed and chafed under 
the nom de guerre of Fermentation. The char- 
ity orphans kept the names their mothers had 
seen fit to give them, out of respect for the de- 
parted. 

“Well, Miss Page, I studied a long time Tout 
them thar twins. Naming is moughty important 
fer boys special, sence matrimony cyarn’t in no 
way improve ’em, an’ I done decided to call ’em 
Postle Peter an’ Pistle Paul.” 

“Capital, capital!” laughed Father. “I hope 
Postle Peter and Pistle Paul are healthy. You 
raise the strongest children in the county, Aunt 
Keziah.” 

“Yassir, Docallison,” said the old woman with 
a toothless grin. “They’s a right likely pair. 
The reason my bo’ders an’ all is so healthy is 


198 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


’cause I make ’em wash theyselves. An’ ev’y 
las’ one er ’em is gotter have two shuts or shifts 
to they backs er I won’t tend ’em. An’ what 
they ain’t a wearin’, I puts in a pot an’ biles. 
De boys gits a big washin’ on Chusdays an’ 
Fridays, an’ de gals on Wednesdays an’ Sat’- 
days. Sometimes whin de lil gals all gits washed 
of a Sat’day night, it looks like it’s a kinder pity 
to was’e all them hot suds what ain’t ter say 
dirty, so I picks out a boy er so dat done got 
siled some, and makes him take a extra scrub, 
jist fer luck. As fer eatin’s, dey don’t git nothin’ 
but corn braid an’ drippin’s wif lasses on Sunday 
ef I kin make out to have ’em, but dey gits a 
plenty of what dey do git and de victuals ’grees 
wif ’em, an’ I don’t never have a nigger a month 
’fo he’s as fat as a possum.” 

“Well, Aunt Keziah, you are doing a fine 
work, raising healthy citizens. I hope you will 
have a happy Christmas and a prosperous New 
Year. There are toys enough to go around in 
the bottom of the basket and here’s a pound of 
tea for you and some tobacco for your pipe and 
some chocolate drops that are easy to chew.” 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 199 

“Thank yer, thank yer, Docallison, specially 
fer de sof' candy. I always did useter have a 
sweet tooth but now I ain't got nothin' but a 
sweet gum, but I's got dat all right." 

Just then the colt, tired of standing, made a 
bolt and all we could do was to wave good-by 
to the funny old woman and her fourteen 
charges. 

“Old Aunt Keziah is bringing up those chil- 
dren according to the teachings of modern sci- 
ence, even to sterilizing their shirts and shifts, 
and she doesn't know there is such a word as 
germ. I fancy the many cracks in the cabin 
wall where you can see daylight are partly re- 
sponsible for the health of the ‘bo'ders.' I find 
more sickness among the colored people where 
their cabins are better built and airtight. Ven- 
tilation is avoided like the plague," said Father 
as he got the colt under control and we went 
spinning ofif to some more “pensioners," as he 
called them. 

The doctor's buggy was finally emptied of its 
load and we skimmed back home with the colt 
as fresh as ever, agreeing that we would not 


200 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


give up horses for all the automobiles under the 
sun. There is an exhilaration that comes from 
driving a good horse that I do not believe a 
car can give one, no matter how fine the car or 
expert the driver. 

Mammy Susan had a dinner for us that was 
fit for kings and queens. It seemed a pity to 
cook so much for just Father and me, but some 
of that dinner found its way to many a cabin 
where Father felt it was most needed ; and then 
on Christmas Day the dogs were given extra 
rations and not limited to their one big feeding 
of corn meal and salt, scalded and baked in a 
great pan until it was crisp. On this day of 
days they had a bone apiece and all kinds of 
good scrapings. 

After dinner we settled ourselves to enjoy the 
Christmas books, of which there were many, as 
our tastes were well known. Father’s patients 
were considerate enough not to send for him all 
afternoon. Not a soul got sick on this happy 
Christmas day. Even poor Sally Winn did not 
try to die. 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


201 


CHAPTER XVI. 

A VISIT FROM THF TUCKERS. 

The Tuckers arrived, and Tucker-like, neither 
at the time nor by the route expected. I was 
just calling Sam to hitch Peg (short for Peg- 
asus) to the surrey to drive to Milton to meet 
them, when the unaccustomed toot of an auto- 
mobile attracted my attention. It was tearing 
down our avenue at breakneck speed. Dee was 
at the wheel with Mr. Tucker beside her, and 
Dum was bouncing around alone on the back 
seat. 

“Beat the train! By Jove, I thought we 
could !” exclaimed Mr. Tucker, when he spied 
me at the yard gate. “We were so afraid you 
might have started for Milton. That's the rea- 
son we were violating the speed limit,” and they 
all piled out, the girls hugging me and kissing 
me and Mr. Tucker almost hugging me and not 
quite kissing me. 


202 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


“It was such a grand day we couldn’t resist 
coming in the car/’ tweedled the twins, “but if 
you had started for Milton before we got here, 
we would have died of mortification.” 

When I told them I had not even had Peg 
hitched up yet, they were delighted. 

“A mounted policeman chased us just as we 
were leaving Manchester, but we dusted him so 
Tweedles and I are hoping he did not get our 
number,” said Mr. Tucker. 

I called Sam to bring in the grips and rugs. 

“I am sorry he can’t take your steed around 
to the stable, Mr. Tucker, but we don’t know a 
thing about automobiles at Bracken.” 

“Leave it where it is, maybe we can have a 
spin later on.” 

We went into the house, where the open wood 
fires made everything bright and cheerful, al- 
though not very warm for persons who are ac- 
customed to steam heat. Mammy Susan in a 
stiffly starched purple calico dress with a gay 
bandanna handkerchief on her head was ready 
to greet the guests. 

“Well, bress the Lord, an’ you done come all 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 203 

the way from town in that there fire wagon. I 
hearn the horn a tootin’ and a rushin’ like 
mighty wings, and I says, says I: ‘Susan Col- 
lins, ’tis the Angel Gabr’el a cornin’ fer you.’ So 
I clap on my clean head hankcher an’ a starched 
apron tow be ready fer the Resrection.” 

“Mammy Susan, we’ve heard a lot about you. 
Page talks about you all the time at school,” 
said the twins, shaking the old woman warmly 
by the hand. 

“Well, now, does she? Mammy’s baby don’t 
fergit her any more’n Mammy fergits her baby. 
An’ is this your pa? Well, save us, ef you don’t 
look more like somebody’s great-grandson than 
anybody’s pa.” 

“Well, they do treat me like a stepson, some- 
times. Mammy,” laughed Mr. Tucker. “If I 
could only take on the looks of years without 
the years, I’d be glad, and maybe I could com- 
mand more respect.” 

“Why don’t you grow some whiskers, then? 
They ain’t nothin’ so ageyfying as whiskers on 
a young man.” 

“I’ll do it, I’ll do it!” exclaimed Mr. Tucker. 


204 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


“Yes, and you do and we’ll pull ’em out,” 
Tweedles declared. 

“Well, here am I a-gassin’ when I ought to be 
settin’ a little lunch fer the travelers.” 

“Oh, we had lunch on the way,” the three of 
them declared. “We were not going to be any 
trouble to you by coming so much earlier than 
we were expected.” 

“Oh, now, you must be hungry,” I said. “It 
won’t take Mammy Susan a minute.” 

“Cose they’s hungry, child. Can’t I tell hungry 
folks soon as I claps eyes on ’em? Maybe they 
did eat a snack in that there chariot of fire, but 
the way they come down the abenue was enough 
to jolt down a Christmus dinner, plum puddin’ 
an’ all, an’ plum puddin’ takes a heap er joltin’,” 
and Mammy Susan hastened out to “set a little 
lunch,” — which the Tuckers later declared was 
a feast. 

They were hungry and cold, in spite of their 
protestations to the contrary, and cold turkey 
and country ham with the delicious little corn- 
meal cakes that Mammy could stir up and bake 
in half a minute disappeared like magic. 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 205 

“Such coffee !” and Mr. Tucker rolled up his 
eyes in ecstasy. “And real cow cream! I tell 
you, Tweedles, as soon as you finish getting this 
much needed education, we’ve got to get out of 
an apartment and into a house where we can 
do some real housekeeping and have some home 
Cooking.” 

“You ought to be made to eat at Gresham for 
a month or so, Zebedee, and you would think the 
cafe is pretty fine,” said Dee. “The grub at 
Gresham is not so bad, but there is such a deadly 
sameness to it.” 

“Well, the grub may be tejus,” broke in 
Mammy, who had just come in with a heaped- 
up plate of corn cakes, “but it must hab suption 
in it, ’cause lil Miss Page is growd in width as 
well as wisdom, and you two young twin ladies 
is got cheeks like wine-saps.” 

“You are right, Mammy, the food must be 
pretty good to keep them so fat and rosy,” said 
Mr. Tucker, helping himself plentifully to the 
dainty little cakes. 

“Yassir,” and Mammy had a sly twinkle in 
her kind old eyes, “an’ that there caffy whar 


206 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


you gits yo’ victuals mus’ be dishin’ out some 
nourishment, too, ’cause you ain’t to say peaked 
lookin’.” 

How we did laugh at Zebedee, and as for him, 
he got up and gave Mammy a little hug. The 
Tuckers all knew how to take jokes on them- 
selves. 

“She certainly did get you, Zebedee,” teased 
Dum. “You were trying to be so Mr. Tuckerish, 
too, admonishing Dee and me for complaining 
about the food at Gresham.” 

Father came in soon from his rounds and 
greeted the visitors in his kindly hospitable way. 
Mr. Tucker was to have several days’ holiday 
from his newspaper and Father said the neigh- 
borhood was in an extremely healthy condition, 
owing to the clear, cold weather, and he did not 
expect to be overworked ; so the gentlemen began 
immediately to plan their hunts. Dum and Dee 
were wild at the prospect of going on the deer 
hunt. 

“I saw Jo Winn this morning, daughter,” said 
Father, “and he will go with us. He has a cousin 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 207 

from New York who is visiting him and he 
wants to take him ." 

“Well, if the cousin has no more conversa- 
tion than Jo he certainly will not bore us with 
his chatter," I said. “Now, how about lunch. 
Father? We must give Mammy some warning, 
because she gets frustrated if we come at her 
too suddenly/' 

“To-morrow suits Jo and his kinsman, and it 
will suit us, too, I think. Tell Mammy how many 
of us there are and tell her to put up twice as 
much lunch as you think she should. That 
ought to be 'most enough. We'll want the big 
camping coffee pot and a skillet and some salt; 
also some sliced bacon, ground coffee and sugar, 
and a little flour to roll the rabbits in. We may 
make a fire and cook some if we get cold and 
have good luck in the morning." 

I went out to the kitchen to interview Mammy, 
Tweedles following me, and then we had to go 
see the dogs. Dee approved of them and they 
heartily approved of her. Dum did not have the 
passion for them that Dee and I had, but she 
liked them well enough. The dogs licked her 


208 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


hand respectfully and then jumped up on Dee 
and knocked her down and had a big romp. 

How delightful it was to have some com- 
panions of my own age at my beloved Bracken! 
The Tuckers wanted to see everything and go 
everywhere. We visited the horses in the stable 
and the cows in the pen and climbed up in the 
hay loft to hunt for eggs that a sly old blue hen 
refused to lay in the proper place. 

"It's just like Grandpa Tucker's, only nicer," 
declared Dum. '“Grandpa treats us as though 
we were about two years old and treats Zebedee 
as though he had just arrived in his teens, so 
when we go there, while we have splendid 
times, we are being told what not to do from 
morning till night." 

“Well, nobody ever has told me not to do 
things," I said. “Mammy Susan grumbles when 
she thinks I am too venturesome, but she has 
always ended by letting me have my own way; 
and Father says he thinks my way is about as 
good as anybody's way." 

“Well, isn't it funny you are not spoiled?" 
tweedled the girls. 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


209 


“ I believe I used to be spoiled when I was a 
tiny thing; but Father says if people grow up 
spoiled, it is because they lack sense, and he al- 
ways said he knew I had sense enough to live 
down the spoiling that he and Mammy Susan 
just couldn’t help giving me.” 

“I believe Dr. Allison is right, Dee,” said Dum 
very solemnly, “and when we are unruly with 
Zebedee I know it is not the fault of our early 
training that we love to lay it on, but just plain 
lack of sense.” 

“Well, I’m going to try to be mighty good, 
then,” exclaimed Dee. “If there is anything in 
the world I hate, it’s stupidity.” 


210 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


CHAPTER XVII. 

DEER HUNTING. 

It was a glorious morning. Of course we had 
to get up before the sun thought of such a thing. 
Indeed, there was a crazy, old, lop-sided, dissi- 
pated-looking, gibbous moon still hanging on to 
life when we came piling out of the warm, light- 
ed house and climbed into the two vehicles wait- 
ing for us. Father and Mr. Tucker were to go 
in Father’s buggy, and the girls and I were very 
snug, three on the seat of the runabout, with the 
lunch and coffee pot bouncing around in the 
back, and the Tuckers’ guns carefully stowed 
under the seat. 

Jo Winn joined us at Milton, the New York 
cousin in the buggy with him. We were curi- 
ous to see the cousin, whom Father had reported 
as being “quite likely.” Jo was as good as gold 
and perfectly intelligent with a keen sense of 
humor, but he was as silent as the tomb. His 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


211 


sister Sally was the greatest chatterbox in the 
world, I am sure. She simply never stopped 
talking except on those occasions when she was 
doing her best to “shuffle off this mortal coil,” 
and then she seemed to be not able to stop talk- 
ing long enough to die thoroughly. Just when 
the grave was yawning for her (or maybe be- 
cause of her) she would think of something she 
simply had to talk about and come back to life. 

The Winns were F. F. V.’s, in that they were 
among the first families in Virginia, if not of 
Virginia. They were not aristocrats, certainly. 
They came of good pioneer stock who were tillers 
of the soil in the seventeenth century and still 
were in the twentieth. They had lived on the 
same tract of land for two centuries and a half, 
and in America that should stand for aristoc- 
racy, but somehow with the Winns it never had. 
They had no desire to be considered great folk 
and so they never were. The war between the 
states had left them as it had found them, in 
fairly prosperous circumstances. Never having 
owned slaves, the emancipation of the negroes 
did not affect them one way or the other. Hav- 


212 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


in g always done their own sowing and reaping, 
they could still do it. The family had never been 
much on marrying, and now there were none 
left but the hypochondriacal old maid Sally and 
her younger brother Jo. 

I had given the twins a history of the Winns 
as we spun over to Milton. Pegasus was in fine 
feather, which seems a strange thing to say of 
a horse, but of one whose name suggests wings, 
perhaps it is appropriate. 

“I fancy Jo is so silent because Sally talks so 
much,” suggested Dum. 

“Maybe it is the other way and Sally talks so 
much to make up for Jo's silence,” I said; “but 
I hope the cousin from New York will strike a 
happy medium.” 

“A 'cousin from New York' always sounds 
so exciting and just as like as not he'll come 
from Hoboken. Dr. Allison says he is about 
twenty-five, so I reckon he’ll not notice us kids, 
anyhow. It won't break our hearts, that's sure,” 
and Dee tossed her blue-black head in disdain of 
all males. 

Jo and the cousin were waiting for us at the 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


213 


crossroads. The cousin was a good-looking 
young man with blue eyes and light hair, very 
picturesque in a brand new hunting suit, leggins 
and all. 

“They won’t stay new long,” I whispered to 
the girls, “with Jo’s hounds flopping all over 
them.” 

Jo was forced to open his mouth and speak, 
as it was up to him to introduce the cousin, but 
he did it in as few words as possible. 

“Mr. Kent — Miss Allison.” And then an ap- 
pealing glance at me gave me to understand that 
the matter was in my hands, so I took up the 
social burden and introduced Jo and Mr. Kent 
to the Tuckers. Mr. Reginald Kent, — that was 
the picturesque name that went with the pic- 
turesque corduroy suit, — proved himself to be a 
young man of resources. He had no idea of 
taking the long drive to the spot of the possible 
deer alone with the silent Jo, the hounds wallow- 
ing all over his new clothes. 

“See here,” he exclaimed) “I think one of us 
fellows ought to get in with the young ladies. 


214 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


They might need some protection on the trip.” 
Jo looked very much amused at my needing pro- 
tection and the twins certainly looked buxom 
enough to take care of themselves without the 
help of Mr. Reginald Kent. 

‘Well, sort yourselves in a hurry,” called 
Father. “The colt won’t stand another minute 
and I don’t want to get too far ahead of the 
rest of you.” 

“Let me get in with Mr. Winn,” begged Dee. 
“I’m crazy to ride with the dogs.” Jo’s dogs 
were the only ones going, although the pack at 
Bracken plead piteously to be allowed to join the 
party. It seemed best not to take too many, and 
Jo’s dogs were so well trained that the men had 
decided on them. 

Mr. Reginald Kent squeezed his new cordu- 
roys between Dum and me, and Dee jumped into 
the buggy with the grinning Jo. Dee declared 
later that Jo talked as much as most men and 
was a very agreeable person; but I fancy the 
real truth of the matter was that Dee chattered 
away at her usual rate, and that Jo was such an 
eloquent listener Dee never did discover that she 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


215 


was doing all the talking. Certainly they found 
a topic of interest to both of them in the dogs, 
and as talking about the dogs meant patting the 
dogs, the dogs naturally were pleased. 

Our cavalier proved to be very cheerful and 
very complimentary. He was evidently much 
pleased to escape the silent Jo. We liked him in 
spite of his fulsome compliments, and when we 
gave him to understand that flattery was not the 
way to curry favor with us, he became more nat- 
ural and we had a very amusing time with him. 
It turned out that he did not live in Hoboken 
as Dee had predicted, but in the heart of New 
York City. He was employed by an advertising 
firm, not only as a writer of advertisements, but 
also as illustrator. 

“Of course there is no pleasant way of making 
a living,” he said, “but I long to get out of this 
commercial art and into regular illustrating/’ 

“But I adore ads,” exclaimed Dum. “Dee and 
Zebedee and I always read every word of them 
and Zebedee says you can find more pure fiction 
in them than in the magazine proper — or im- 
proper.” 


216 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


“Well, after this I shall do my work more en- 
thusiastically and more conscientiously, knowing 
there is a chance of its coming under such eyes,” 
and Mr. Kent’s glance of admiration into Dum’s 
hazel eyes gave her to understand he was speak- 
ing of those particular eyes and not Dee’s and 
Zebedee’s. I rather expected to see Dum give him 
a back-hander, but instead she blushed in rather 
a pleased way, just as any young girl should 
on receiving such a compliment from a hand- 
some young man from New York. 

The roads in our county are much improved, 
thanks to the automobilists who have worked 
such reforms throughout the whole country. On 
that morning they were hard and dry, even 
dusty, and we went spinning along through the 
frosty air, Father ahead with the colt behaving 
as though it were a hurry call and every mo- 
ment counted. I was next in line and Peg was 
giving me all I could do to hold her in. She 
seemed to want to let us all see that an up- 
startish colt could trot no faster than she could. 
I was rather glad that Mr. Reginald Kent had 
taken a fancy to hazel eyes instead of gray, as 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 217 

I needed my gray eyes to pick a smooth road for 
Peg. Jo Winn and Dee were just far enough 
behind us to keep out of our dust, and occasion- 
ally we could hear Dee's ringing laugh and an 
unusual guffaw from the silent Jo. 

“You see now why we couldn't come in your 
automobile, as Mr. Tucker wanted," I said to 
Dum, as Father wheeled the colt sharply to the 
left into a forest of pines where scrub oaks and 
chinquepins almost concealed a very poor ex- 
cuse for a road. 

“Come on, Daughter," Father called back to 
me ; “we'll keep close together through the 
woods, as there is no dust." 

I really believe that the road through that 
pine forest is the very worst road in Virginia, 
and that is saying a good deal, as my beloved 
state has only recently awakened to the fact that 
it reflects on her standing to be noted as having 
the worst roads in the Union. That particular 
road had great granite bowlders ; ruts that 
threatened to swallow us ; gnarled tree roots that 
stretched across the path as though they meant 
to trip us up ; and sometimes even a fallen trunk 


218 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


over which we would have to bounce, testing the 
springs of our vehicles to their utmost endur- 
ance. 

‘Well, I reckon little Henry Ford” (that is 
what the Tuckers called their car), “would have 
been ditched long before this,” gasped Dum, as 
one wheel took a bowlder and the other a deep 
rut. 

“Miss Allison, I haven’t asked you to let me 
assist you in driving, just because I know you 
can do it so much better than I can,” said Mr. 
Kent. “I’d have turned over there as sure as 
I’m born.” 

“Well, I came mighty near doing it,” I 
laughed. “If Dum’s hat had not been on the 
side and tilted toward the bowlder, we would 
have landed in the ditch, I know. We had just 
about an ounce’s weight in our favor.” 

“I guess it’s a good thing I part my hair in 
the middle in these hairbreadth escapes. Just 
think, suppose it had been parted on the left side 
and had counterbalanced Miss Dum’s hat tipped 
toward the right! Over we would have gone.” 

Just then a Molly Cotton-tail jumped up out 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


219 


of the bracken and the dogs set up a fearful 
howling. It was all Jo Winn and Dee could do 
to hold them in their places. Mr. Tucker and 
Dum looked longingly at their guns but the colt 
would not stand for shooting going on so close 
to him, and, besides, when people go out for 
deer they do not want to begin on rabbits. So 
little Miss Molly got off for that time at least. 

I was glad. There is something in my make- 
up that recoils from killing anything. To be 
sure, I am fond of a rabbit's hind leg, about as 
good eating as one can find, but when I am pick- 
ing on one of those hind legs I have to close my 
mind carefully to the fact that that same hind 
leg has helped to carry some Bre'r Rabbit 
through many a briar patch. If the image comes 
to me of a perky little white tail scurrying 
through the bushes with the eager dogs in pur- 
suit, I simply have to give up eating the delecta- 
ble morsel and Mammy Susan has to broil me 
some bacon. 

“Hi, there, Uncle Peter," called Father to an 
old negro man approaching on a mule, a great 
sack of corn balanced on his pommel, “don't tell 


220 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


me you are not at home when we are coming to 
see you. ,, 

“Well, Docallison, I done tech bottom in de 
meal bag dis very mawnin’, an’ I was jes’ a takin’ 
some cawn to de mill; but efn de quality folks 
is a cornin’ ter see me, I kin sho make out wif 
de scrapin’s till anudder day.” 

“We are going to try our luck with the deer, 
Uncle Peter, and I thought we would leave our 
teams at your cabin and get you to bring our 
provisions over to Falling Water in your wheel- 
barrow.” 

“ ’Visions, you say? Well, efn you’s goin’ ter 
have ’visions, dey ain’t no us’n my goin’ ter de 
mill fer days ter come. ’Visions from Bracken 
means dat Mammy Susan done had her say-so, 
and dat ole nigger ’oman is sho a amplified per- 
fider. They’ll be ’nuf leavins ter feed de mul- 
titude on Mount Aryrat.” And Uncle Peter 
turned his willing mule’s head around and led 
the way to his cabin. 

Click! Click! went Mr. Kent’s pocket camera. 
“Exactly the type I am looking for! Now, Miss 
Dum, when you look through the advertisements 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 221 

several months from now, be sure to notice a 
certain molasses that is to be put on the market. 
Uncle Peter will be there taking his corn to the 
mill so he can have a ‘pone to sop in de lasses/ 
Oh, look at the cabin! Isn't it charming?" 

It was indeed a typical log cabin. It was old, 
very old, but Uncle Peter kept it in good repair, 
patching the mortar in the chinks from time to 
time and propping up the great stone chimney 
that stood at about the angle of the Leaning 
Tower of Pisa. On the door and walls were 
tacked many coon skins. That is the method em- 
ployed for curing the skins, and Uncle Peter 
made quite a little money selling coon skins. He 
had only a small clearing around his cabin but 
a good cornfield down in the creek bottom. 

“ 'Light, light," said Uncle Peter, “Rosana 
will be that proud ter 'ceive you. She been 
throwing rocks all mornin' at that ole Shanghai 
rooster who would crow fer comp'ny. Co'se 
Rosana didn't know de comp'ny was a goin' ter 
be white folks. She done' low it would be some 
er dem low-down niggers tother side er de 


222 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


swamp what is always a-comin’ empty and gwine 
away full.” 

Aunt Rosana squeezed herself sideways 
through the cabin door. She was a mountain 
of flesh, with about as much shape as a foot- 
ball. Indeed, she looked very like the potato 
babies Mammy Susan used to make me: a big 
potato for the body; a little potato for a head, 
stuck on with a match; feet and arms of pea- 
nuts; and a face scratched on with a kitchen 
fork. Her voice sounded like hot mashed potato 
as she bade us welcome. 

“Well, efn I won’t hab ter gib dat ole Shang- 
hai rooster a extry handful er wheat! Here I 
been a-was’in’ time all mornin’ tryin’ ter make 
him shet up his ’nostigatin’ fer comp’ny, not 
thinkin’ he was a-crowin’ fer quality. I mought 
a-knowed he wouldn’t er crowed so loud an’ clear 
fer nuthin’ but niggers, an’ swamp niggers, at 
dat,” and a laugh shook her huge body, remind- 
ing me of the “bowl full of jelly.” 

We were glad to stretch ourselves after the 
long drive, and Aunt Rosana took us into her 
cabin while the men of the party attended to un- 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 223' 

hitching the horses. The cabin was spotless, al- 
though the one room it boasted was kitchen, par- 
lor and bedroom in one. A great fireplace al- 
most the entire length of one side of the room 
was really the kitchen. Aunt Rosana scorned 
iron stoves and still did her cooking with pot- 
hooks and Dutch ovens. Even now, hanging 
from one hook, was a singing black iron kettle 
and from another a covered pot from which is- 
sued an aroma that told me that Uncle Peter was 
going to have cabbage for dinner. Homemade 
rag rugs covered the floor almost entirely, but 
wherever a spot of oak flooring showed, it was 
gleaming white with much scrubbing. 

A great four-poster had the place of honor op- 
posite the fireplace. It was a bed fit for the 
slumbers of kings and princes. Many families 
in Virginia will exhibit just such beds and 
proudly tell you that in those beds Lafayette and 
Washington had slept. I don’t know how Uncle 
Peter and Aunt Rosana happened to have it, but 
I know that the beautiful old bed had never har- 
bored a more worthy couple. The patchwork 
quilt, with its intricate rising-sun pattern* was- 


224 AT BOARDING SCHOOL 

Aunt Rosana’s handiwork. The walls were dec- 
orated with brilliant chromos, calendars dating 
back into the ’seventies and on up to date. 

The twins were charmed with the place and 
their interest was most flattering to Aunt Ro- 
sana. She showed them all her treasures, even 
her photograph album. 

“And who are all of these people?” asked 
Dum, who was politely looking at every photo- 
graph. 

“Lor’, chile, I dunno. Peter bought dat ere 
album at a sale ober in de nex’ county. Ev’y- 
body in de book is white, an’ dey looks like qual- 
ity ter me; but dese days yer can’t tell. Some 
er de quality is lookin’ moughty stringy an’ de 
oberseer class is pickin’ up so dey is kinder mer- 
gin’ inter great folks.” 

“What’s this up your chimney?” queried Dee, 
peering up the great flue. 

“Oh, dat’s whar I smokes my meat. They’s 
some shoulders up dar ; an’ some sides er baking 
wif a streak er fat an’ a streak er lean as pretty 
as any you kin buy in de city. An’ them’s my 
little chany valuebowles what I been collecking 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


225 


of sence I was a baby,” said Aunt Rosana to 
Dum, who was examining a great array of little 
china ornaments on top of a large old highboy. 

There were little china girls kissing little china 
boys; little baskets with turtle doves on the han- 
dles ; pink puppies and green cats, some of them 
meant for match safes and some of them purely 
ornamental; little cups and saucers of every 
shape and hue; little pitchers with big ears and 
some with no ears at all. I have never been in 
a cabin of self-respecting colored people where 
there was not a chest of drawers or a table filled 
with similar treasures. I know Aunt Rosana 
thought as much of her “chany valuebowles” as 
Father did of his books, and her sensations when 
Dum almost dropped a little shell-covered box 
was just what Father's would have been if he 
had seen a careless reader turn down a page in 
one of his beloved books, or bend back the covers 
of one of his first editions. 

“Do look at this,” begged Dum of Mr. Kent, 
who had just entered the cabin. She held up 
in her hand a china cow of a decidedly lavender 
hue with horns and hoofs of gilt, and quoted: 


226 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


“ ‘I never saw a purple cow ; 

I never hope to see one; 

But I can tell you, anyhow, 

I’d rather see than be one.’ ” 

“ 'Ah, yes, I wrote the "Purple Cow” — 
I’m sorry now I wrote it! 

But I can tell you, anyhow, 

I’ll kill you if you quote it !’ ” laughed 

Mr. Kent, taking the fearful and wonderful 
animal in his hands and examining it with 
great interest. "Isn’t this place delightful? If 
I had only brought my sketching things instead 
of my gun, I’d stay here and paint. I’m going 
to ask Aunt Rosana to let me take some time 
exposures of the interior of her cabin. Just look 
at that bed and that fireplace! Thank good- 
ness, I’ve got my camera with a perfectly new 
film good for twelve exposures.” 

"Well, Gawd be praised dat ole Shanghai gib 
me warnin’ of comp’ny cornin’ an’ I done stirred 
my stumps an’ straightened up some, efn my 
room’s goin’ ter git its Dager’type took,” and 
Aunt Rosana’s flesh quivered with delight. 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


227 


CHAPTER XVIII. 
the: mighty hunte;r. 

The pictures were soon taken and we were on 
our way to the low country. Everyone carried 
a gun but me. Uncle Peter brought up the rear 
with a wheelbarrow laden with the “ ’visions.” 

It was a long walk but such a delightful one 
that we never once thought of getting tired. 
Our way lay through a pine forest and was up 
hill and down dale. Tweedles and I were as 
well able to take the walk as any of the male 
persuasion, although it took some time to make 
Mr. Kent understand that we could get along 
without his assistance. He would help Dum 
over a worm fence, much to Dee’s and my 
amusement, as we knew that Dum could vault it 
with one hand, just as we did. 

“I never saw such independent young ladies as 
you three,” he confessed after a daring leap we 


228 AT BOARDING SCHOOL 

had made over a gulch. “The girls I know in 
New York expect to be assisted over every gut- 
ter.” 

“Maybe that’s their town manner, and if they 
were turned loose in the country they might help 
themselves as well as we can,” I suggested. “To 
tell the truth, it makes me fall down if anyone 
helps me.” 

“Do you know,” whispered Dee to me, “I ver- 
ily believe that Reginald Kent person is getting 
stuck on Dum? I hope he won’t shoot her. I 
don’t believe he ever carried a gun before in his 
life. He handles it like a walking stick.” 

“He’s real nice, don’t you think?” I asked. 

“Oh, yes, nice enough, but I can’t see why 
Dum lets him boost her over every stick and 
stone. She’s perfectly able-bodied. She looks 
to me as though she rather liked to be treated 
like a boneless vertebrate,” and Dee looked very 
disgusted. The fact was that Dum was taking 
the helping just as she was taking the compli- 
ments: in a perfectly natural, girlish way. 

“Fond of the country?” asked Mr. Tucker, 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


229 


glancing with an amused twinkle at Mr. Kent’s 
nonchalant manner of holding his gun. 

“Oh, yes, fond enough, what I know of it. 
I’ve had to stick pretty close to Broadway all 
my life. I spent a summer down here with the 
Winns once when I was a kid and that’s about 
the only country I’ve known.” 

“Haven’t you hunted before?” questioned 
Dum, jumping back from the barrel of Mr. 
Kent’s new gun that was pointing ominously at 
her. 

“Well, I’ve shot the 'shoots’ at Coney Island, 
and have practiced at hitting the bull’s-eye in the 
galleries at that gay resort until I can ring the 
bell every time, but that is the extent of my ex- 
perience,” and Mr. Kent looked a little wistful. 
“I’d be mighty glad of some pointers from any 
of you that have had more.” 

“Well, point your gun, barrel down,” tweedled 
the twins. 

“Ah, so, I see,” he said, grasping his gun in 
a more sportsmanlike manner, and all of us 
breathed a sigh of relief. I had been in terror 
for fear he might ring a b-e-l-l-e or hit some 


230 AT BOARDING SCHOOL 

«ye not in a bull ever since we left Aunt Ro- 
sana’s cabin. ‘Tm awfully green/’ continued 
the young man, modestly. “I cut a poorer figure 
turned loose here in the country than old Uncle 
Peter would on the Great White Way.” 

“Not a bit of it,” said Mr. Tucker kindly. He 
seemed rather impressed by Mr. Kent’s frank- 
ness and modesty. Indeed, the young New 
Yorker could not cut a poor figure anywhere. 
He was well grown and sturdy and had an ath- 
letic swing to his walk due not only to much 
work in a gymnasium but to the “magnificent 
distances” he had been compelled to walk in 
New York. 

I have noticed that town-bred persons as a 
rule walk much better than country-bred. When 
they get on rough ground they walk as though 
it were smooth, while country people when they 
strike pavements look as though they were still 
getting over plowed ground. Reginald Kent, if 
he did not know how to carry a gun, knew how 
to carry himself. With shoulders back, chin in 
and head well up, he stepped along like a West 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


231 


Pointer; while Jo Winn slouched with shoulders 
bent and head forward. 

We chatted away very merrily until we came 
to the creek where the party was to separate. 
There was not much chance of any game, big or 
little, with such a crowd tramping through the 
woods. It was agreed that Father, Mr. Tucker 
and Jo Winn should cross the creek and go on 
to the river, where they were to take a skiff, 
owned by old Uncle Peter and kept moored at 
a certain spot, known to Father; from there they 
were to go into the marshes ; and, later on, come 
down the river and join us at the mouth of the 
creek. We were to keep on straight down the 
creek with Uncle Peter and Mr. Kent, who ear- 
nestly desired to stay and “take care” of the 
ladies. 

“Pm going to change my loads for rabbits,” 
said Dee, suiting the action to the word. “This 
big shot would tear a rabbit all to pieces and I 
believe we are more apt to see rabbits than 
deer.” 

Mr. Kent followed suit but Dum kept “loaded 


232 AT BOARDING SCHOOL 

fur b’ar,” as she expressed it. Dee soon got a 
rabbit, which she wept over. 

“She always does that/’ explained Dum. “She 
shoots things for the love of shooting and then 
bawls because she has taken an innocent life.” 

We had one of Jo’s dogs with us. The other 
two had gone with the three men to stalk the 
possible deer. Our dog started up several rab- 
bits and Mr. Kent joyously got two of them. 

“Gee, this beats clay pigeons and shooting gal- 
leries,” he declared. “I feel like a man-eating 
lion now; since I have tasted blood, I’ll never be 
content to go back to my quiet, uneventful life.” 

We pitched camp near the mouth of the creek 
on a cliff overlooking the river. Uncle Peter 
and I made a fire and skinned the rabbits, while 
the Tuckers and the cavalier went off in search 
of more game. Under a great ledge of rock 
we found some snow left from a storm we had 
before Christmas, and after washing the rab- 
bits well and letting them stand in cold water 
long enough to get out the animal heat, we 
buried them in the snow: “Ter git the fraish- 
ness out’n em,” explained Uncle Peter. 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 233 

I always loved to mess around a campfire, and 
Uncle Peter proved a most delightful com- 
panion. 

“I like this a lot better than killing things, 
Uncle Peter," I said. 

“Sho, child, so do I. I've been a-huntin’ all 
my life, but it ain't been fer pleasure. I hunts 
fer a livin' an' I wouldn't shoot nothin' fer the 
love er killin' any mor'n I'd go dig taters fer 
exercise. I digs taters fer taters. I done tuck 
de libbuty of bringin' some sweet taters I made 
dis year fer ter roas' fer you-alls dinner," and 
the old man pulled a bag from the wheelbarrow 
that held great sweet potatoes almost as big as 
my head. 

“They's nothin' so 'lectable as sweet taters 
what is roasted in de cam'fire. Jes' put 'em down 
in de ashes and kiver 'em over an' den fergit 
'em, jes' fergit 'em. Dey can't cook too long 
'kase de mo' de outside burns de mealier de in- 
side is go’nter git," and Uncle Peter piled on 
more brushwood and raked the hot ashes over 
the yams. 

Every now and then we heard a shot ofif in 


234 AT BOARDING SCHOOL 

the direction of the Amazons and their so-called 
protector. I did hope the girls were having good 
luck and would come back with game of some 
sort. Uncle Peter and I got out the “ ’visions’’ 
and began to prepare for the hunters who, ex- 
perience told us, would come along soon, hungry 
as wolves. 

“Killin’s a mighty ap’tizin’ spo’t,” laughed 
Uncle Peter, “an’ victuals cooked in de open 
seems ter be mo’ tasty-like dan de ones in kitch- 
ens.” 

First we fried the bacon and then put it in a 
covered pan to keep hot, and used the bacon 
grease to fry the rabbits, which we had seasoned 
very highly and rolled in flour. I filled the cof- 
fee pot with fresh water from a bubbling spring 
near by, and, resting it on two stones about six 
inches apart, I raked out hot coals, and soon it 
began to heat up. I had just completed this 
culinary feat when Uncle Peter whispered to 
me: 

“Look, chile, down yander by the ribber!” 

The cliff where we had pitched our little camp 
overlooked the river, and about a hundred yards 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


235 


from the base of our cliff was a graveled ford, or 
shallows. The scrub growth was close down to 
the water’s edge but stretching out into the 
stream was a little sandy beach. Beyond the 
scrub growth rose the dark pines, and an occa- 
sional oak with its great bare branches towered 
above all meaner trees. From the underbrush 
had stepped a young buck. He was picking his 
way daintily across the pebbles to the water’s 
edge. How beautiful he was! I wanted our 
guests to have good sport, but I longed with a 
longing that was almost a prayer that no one 
with a gun was seeing what Uncle Peter and I 
were seeing. What wind there was came from 
his direction so he got no scent of us, and he 
drank his fill with unconcern, as though he lived 
in the “forest primeval.” Then he proudly 
raised his antlered head and stood a moment 
sniffing the air. 

“Bang!” rang out a shot, whizzing close to my 
ear, and “Bang!” came the echo from the cliff. 
The young buck stood a moment as though 
sculptured, and not until the echo answered did 
he drop. It almost seemed that the echo liad 


236 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


been the good shot that had laid low this pos- 
sible future leader of herds. 

“Oh, the pity of it! The pity of it!” my heart 
cried out. Turning, I saw my friends on a ledge 
of rock farther down the river; Dum, with her 
smoking gun still raised to her shoulder, an 
exalted look on her face and her black hair with 
the coppery lights tumbling all about her, an 
Amazon, indeed; Dee, crumpled up in a little 
heap, her hands over her face. 

“Hurrah !” shouted Reginald Kent, beside 
himself with excitement. 

Dee jumped up from her crumpled heap and 
clambered down the cliff, tears streaming down 
her face and great sobs shaking her body. She 
fortunately had on waterproof boots, because 
she thought no more of water than she did of 
land. She splashed right across the shallow 
ford and, kneeling down by the poor deer, she 
buried her tear-stained face on his twitching 
shoulder. 

Just then the skiff with Mr. Tucker, Father 
and Jo Winn came round a bend in the river. 

“Hello! What’s this?” called Mr. Tucker in 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 237 

some alarm, seeing his daughter kneeling on 
the sand by an expiring stag. “Where's Dum ? 
What's happened ?" 

“It's just Dee, deedling," called out Dum. “I 
shot the deer and now Dee's breaking her heart." 

“O — h, O — h, but he recognized me just be- 
fore he died !" sobbed Dee. “I could tell by the 
way he looked at me." 

“It was a good thing he did 'recognize' you," 
grinned Jo Winn. “If he had not, he might 
have gored you. An injured buck is a right dan- 
gerous thing to fool with." 

We comforted Dee as best we could and 
praised Dum for her shot. Soon we were gath- 
ered around our campfire, and then Uncle Peter 
and I came in for our share of praise for the 
good dinner we had cooked. 

“We’ll feast on venison to-morrow," said 
Father. 

“Ah, never !" shuddered Dee. “I couldn't, not 
after he recognized me." 

“Maybe Molly Cottontail, whose hind leg you 
seem to be enjoying so, would have recognized 
you, too, if she had ever seen you before," teased 


238 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


Mr. Tucker. “Now, Miss Page, here, has such 
a tender heart she can’t eat rabbit that she has 
seen running in the woods but contents herself 
with bacon.” 

“Have you no pity, then, for the poor faithful 
hogs?” asked Father. “They no doubt enjoy 
life as much as the deer or Bre’r Rabbit. That 
is perhaps bacon from one of old Sally’s off- 
spring; and, Page, you used to play with those 
pigs when they were little as though they were 
kittens. I have no doubt all of the litter would 
recognize you. When we begin to sentimentalize 
about our food, we had better 'open our mouths 
and shut our eyes,’ as there is no telling to what 
lengths it may lead us.” 

“But, Doctor, you know Tigs is pigs,’ ” broke 
in Mr. Tucker, and the discussion ended with a 
laugh. 

After dinner the gentlemen made another ex- 
cursion across the river but came back without 
having seen even a deer track. They got a few 
partridges, however, and some rabbits and were 
content. We started home through the pine for- 
est a very happy, merry party. 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


239 


Mr. Reginald Kent stuck closer than a brother 
to Dum’s side, and Mr. Tucker, who was walk- 
ing with me, and I overheard this conversation 
between the infatuated young New Yorker and 
the ingenuous Dum: 

“Do you know. Miss Dum, you looked like 
Diana when you stood on that rock and aimed 
at the deer? I wanted to paint you awfully 
bad and did click the camera on you. I hope 
you don’t mind.” 

“Oh, no, I don’t mind if it will help you any 
in your advertising. Are you going to put me 
in the ’lasses ad, too?” 

“Oh, now, Miss Dum, quit your kidding! You 
know I didn’t mean I wanted to paint you for 
advertising, I meant for myself.” And then 
Dum blushed. 

Mr. Tucker frowned. He evidently did not 
relish his girls getting old enough to be talked 
to that way. 

“Miss Dum, will you do me a great favor?” 
continued Mr. Kent. “I want more than any- 
thing in the world a lock of your hair. It is the 
most wonderful hair I have ever seen. Some- 


240 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


times it looks black, and then in another light it 
is almost red. When it came down while you 
were aiming at the deer, it was like copper in 
the sun. Please give me just a little lock to take 
back to New York with me.” 

“I am afraid Zebedee would not like for me 
to cut my hair,” answered Dum primly. “But I 
tell you,” she added generously, “I can save you 
the combings, if you would like them.” 

Mr. Reginald Kent looked rather nonplused 
and Mr. Tucker handed me his gun to hold while 
he rolled in the leaves for very joy. As we were 
bringing up the rear, nobody saw this pantomime 
but me, and I was as glad as Dum’s father that 
she was not going to be grown up for a while 
yet. 

Mr. Kent was to go back to New York on the 
following day ; in a little more than a week Dum 
would be in boarding school; and it would of 
necessity be many a day before the two could 
meet again. Perhaps the next time they do 
meet, Dum will have grown to the age when she 
will know that to offer a young man combings in 
lieu of a lock is not conducive to romance. 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


241 


CHAPTER XIX. 

A VISIT TO RICHMOND. 

Those were certainly three mad, merry days 
I spent in Richmond with the Tuckers. Poor 
Father had to go to Cousin Park Garnett’s and 
he just hated it. But he had promised her that 
the first time he went to Richmond he would stay 
at her house, and stay he had to. 

The Tuckers met us at the station in little 
Henry Ford. It had been only a few days since 
they had been with us at Bracken, but we had 
much to talk about and a great deal of news to 
exchange. 

"Father is having the deer skin tanned to 
make a rug for our room at Gresham, and the 
antlers are to be mounted for a hat-rack,” ex- 
claimed Dum. 

"Sally Winn tried to die last night, and I 
drove over to Milton with Father, and Jo told 


242 


AT BOAKDING SCHOOL 


me he thought you, Dee, were the most sensible 
lady he had ever met," I managed to get in. 

“He promised me a pointer pup; I hope he 
won't forget it. Brindle had a fight yesterday 
and is all bunged up from it. I know you are 
dying to meet Brindle," said Dee. 

“No doubt she is pining away for that honor," 
teased Mr. Tucker, “but don't you think she 
could wait until after luncheon? How about it, 
Miss Page?" 

“Well, if Brindle can stand it, I fancy I can," 
said I. And so we went to a delightful restau- 
rant, where we had a scrumptious luncheon (I 
know no other word to express it) : Lynhaven 
oysters on the deep shell; Hampton spots so 
beautifully cooked that it must have made them 
glad to be caught and fried; shoestring pota- 
toes vying with the fish in charm; Waldorf 
salad, with everything in it but the kitchen stove, 
as Dee declared. 

Cousin Park was not expecting Father until 
the afternoon, so he was spared to us for a little 
while, much to his delight and ours. 

“Now, what shall we have for dessert?" asked 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 243 

our genial host. “Tweedles always wants pie, — 
cocoanut, as a rule.” 7 

“Pink ice cream for me,” said Fa tfcr. “Did 
you ever see a country Jake that didn't want pink 
ice cream as soon as he hit the city?” 

“What seasoning?” laughed Mr. Tucker. 

“I don't care, just so it's pink.” 

“I believe I'll have what Father has. I like it 
pink, too.” 

“Well, cocoanut pie for mine,” ordered Dum. 

“And lemon meringue for mine,” ordered Dee. 

“You are not like the young man who never 
ate lemon meringue pie because it messed up his 
ears so, are you, Dee?” said Mr. Tucker; and 
so our gay little luncheon proceeded. 

“My, how I hate to go to Cousin Park's!” 
sighed Father. “She is kind in a way, but so 
— so — ponderous.” 

“Poor Father!” and I patted his knee under 
the table,” I do wish you didn't have to go.” 

“Well, I have plenty of engagements that will 
keep me busy, and I won't have to do much more 
than eat and sleep there. But it is her long for- 
mal dinners that bore me so.” 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


2U 

“Well* you have simply got to have dinner 
with us A -,o-morrow, Saturday, evening at the 
Country * or ub, and no doubt these girls will have 
you fox-trbtting before the evening is over,” 
and Mr. Tucker would not take “No” for an an- 
swer, — not that Father was very persistent in 
his refusal. We dropped the dear man at Cousin 
Park's great, dark house and he had the look of 
“Give up all hope ye who enter here.” 

The Tuckers had a very attractive apartment 
in a large, new, up-to-date building, but I could 
fancy the havoc that Dum and Dee caused when- 
ever they resorted to the gloves to settle their 
disputes. The place was so full of nicknacks 
that one could hardly turn around. There were 
really enough of what Mammy Susan called 
“doodads” to decorate a mansion, and all of 
these things were crowded into a not very large 
apartment. Some of the things were very beau- 
tiful and all of them were interesting, but if they 
belonged to me I would pack about half of them 
away in storage. 

I thought of a colored woman in the country 
who lived in a very small cabin with six little 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


245 


children falling over her feet all the time, and 
she used to pray fervently, "Oh, Gawd, gimme 
grace not ter git so pestered dat I'll throw ary 
one er dem out do’s.” I am afraid I would have 
been so pestered with all of the doodads that I 
would surely have thrown some of them out- 
doors. 

"Miss Page, I have been trying to persuade 
Tweedles to help me to get rid of some of the 
mess in these rooms/’ said Mr. Tucker, almost 
as though he had read my mind. “I feel the 
stuffiness of it even more since our visit at 
Bracken.” That was it, the simplicity of Bracken 
had spoiled me for overcrowded rooms. 

"But Zebedee, everything we want to get rid 
of is just the thing you think most of, and the 
things that you think superfluous are our special 
treasures,” complained Dum. 

"Well, I am afraid we’ll have to wait until you 
get some kind of education, and then, if stocks 
is riz, we’ll move into a house big enough to 
spread out in.” 

Their rugs were beautiful and their pictures 
I have since found out were very fine. At that 


246 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


time, however, they did not seem very good to 
me. The taste in art of a fifteen-year-old girl 
who has seen next to no pictures is not to be 
relied upon; and no doubt my taste was abom- 
inable. 

Brindle took me to his heart and made me per- 
fectly at home. He was a bow-legged, brindle 
bull with undershot jaw and eyes like damson 
jam. Dee loved him next to Zebedee and Dum; 
and I know cried herself to sleep many a night 
at boarding school, longing for her pet. He was 
certainly a very human person, or rather dog, I 
should say, and ruled the Tuckers with a rod of 
iron. He actually made Mr. Tucker get out of 
a chair that he, Brindle, had taken a fancy to, 
and he curled himself up on the seat with a 
haughty sniff that made us scream with laugh- 
ter, until Dee insisted that we control our mer- 
riment, as Brindle did not like to be laughed at. 

“It is his one fault,” she said; “he has not a 
very keen sense of humor.” 

“He has one other, Dee,” said Mr. Tucker; 
“he does smell like a dog, you must admit.” Dee 
had to admit it, but declared she thought a dog 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


247 


should smell like a dog and not like a tuberose; 
so the discussion ended. 

We took in the movies that afternoon. I don’t 
know how many of them, but it was great fun. 

“Zebedee won’t usually let us go without him,” 
said Dee, “but he thinks you are dignified enough 
to hold us down.” 

“Me — dignified? Why, father thinks I am as 
wild as a March hare !” 

“Well, Zebedee says you know when to be 
quiet. Zebedee likes you a lot, Page,” declared 
Dum. “If you weren’t exactly what you are, 
Dee and I would be awfully jealous of you. 
What you blushing about ?” Such a double-bar- 
reled compliment would make an old pair of 
leather saddle bags blush ; and a girl of my thin 
skin naturally took on a rosy hue, that Dee de- 
clared put me out of the chaperone class. 

That evening we went to a vaudeville per- 
formance. Mr. Tucker’s newspaper connection 
gave him the entree anywhere in the house, so 
we were very grand in box seats. A particularly 
amusing black-faced artist was giving a song- 
and-dance when Dee exclaimed: 


248 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


"Look up there in the balcony!” And what 
should we see but Father's dear old lean, solemn 
face convulsed with merriment. Zebedee — I 
mean Mr. Tucker — went up and made him join 
us. 

"How did you escape Cousin Park?” I asked. 

"Oh, she thinks I am in solemn conclave with 
some of my professional brethren ! I didn't ex- 
actly tell a lie, but I acted one. It was either 
that or burst a blood vessel. You know my 
Cousin Park, do you not, Mr. Tucker?” 

"Y-e-s, I know her, but she never seems to 
know me. With Mrs. Garnett, one must have 
either plenty of very blue blood or more than 
plenty of very yellow gold. I've got blue blood 
to burn, but no yellow gold, as you know. There 
must be something radically wrong with me in 
her eyes. What it is, I don't know; nor do I 
much care. I was very fond of her husband. 
Major Peyton Garnett was a good friend to me. 
I admired him immensely.” 

"Yes, the Major was a fine old gentleman,” 
said father. He afterward told me that one rea- 
son he had to escape from Cousin Park's pres- 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 249 

ence or break a blood vessel was that she had so 
many unkind things to say of Mr. Jeffry Tucker, 
the old croaker that she was! “I am sorry for 
you, Page, but you are in for a Sunday dinner at 
Cousin Park’s.” I groaned in agonized antici- 
pation. “I couldn’t get out of it for you, my 
child, she made such a point of it. She is our 
kinswoman, and we have to show her some re- 
spect.” 

“Well, thank goodness, this time I don’t have 
to go to the dentist’s, too! The combination of 
Cousin Park and the dentist is a strong one, I 
can tell you. If you can stand her, Father, I 
reckon I can.” 

“That’s my good girl,” said Father, patting my 
shoulder, and Mr. Tucker gave me a warm and 
friendly glance and said: 

“Tweedles and I will see that you get there 
late and come away early.” 

It seems to me I laughed more at that vaude- 
ville performance than anybody in the theater. 
I had seen very few shows in my life, and every- 
thing was new and fresh to me. I was not bored 
even by the strong man who seemed to be so 


250 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


tiresome to the audience, and no joke was too 
much of a chestnut to be scorned by me. To 
have Father with us, too, made my cup of happi- 
ness full to the brim. 

The next evening, Saturday, we had dinner at 
the Country Club, and stayed for the dance aft- 
erward. The Country Club was a beautiful 
building with spacious grounds, golf links, ten- 
nis courts, and a view of the James River that 
appealed to me very much. The dinner was fine, 
and Father and I had a splendid time. 

“I am glad to escape all the meals I can at the 
apartment house cafe/’ confessed Mr. Tucker. 
“When Tweedles are away, I eat anywhere but 
at home.” 

“You are an extravagant piece,” said Dee. 

“But I have my regular meals served for 
Brindle,” laughed Mr. Tucker. 

“Oh, that alters the case, then!” exclaimed 
Dee. “Brindle should have just as good food as 
people, with a variety of vegetables.” 

What a ballroom floor they had at that club- 
house! I had never danced, as I said before, 
until I went to school, but I had been an apt pu- 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


251 


pil because I was such an eager one, and now 
knew enough of the modern dances to get along 
very well. I had never in my life danced with a 
man. At school we took turns guiding, and I 
was much sought after because of my being so 
untiring. 

“Miss Page, you are the guest of honor and I 
am the host, so it is in order that you give me 
this first dance.” And Mr. Jeffry Tucker bowed 
in front of me as though I were a great society 
belle. 

The Tuckers were all born dancers, and as I 
glided away with Mr. Tucker, I remembered 
what Miss Jane Cox had said about his leading 
the germans at the University with his little 
sweetheart Virginia, afterward his wife. A 
great wave of pity for the poor little dead wife 
swept over me, and I came very near missing 
step in a rather intricate dance we were attempt- 
ing. It must have been so sad to die and leave 
such a delightful husband and the twins, who 
were such charming girls that they must have 
been cunning little babies. What a vigorous 
presence was Jeffry Tucker’s! He must have 


252 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


been a lover that any girl would have been happy 
with. I hoped if I ever did have a lover that he 
would be the kind that I fancied Mr. Tucker 
must have been. Something made me blush as 
my thoughts dwelt on my ever having a lover. 

"My, what a color dancing gives you!” ex- 
claimed my partner. "A minute ago you looked 
so sad I wondered what you were thinking of, 
and now you are as rosy as the dawn.” 

“ 'It is darkest just before dawn/ you know,” 
I answered. I wondered what he would have 
said had he known what I was thinking of when 
I looked so sad. And then a strange thing hap- 
pened, and the kind of thing has happened very 
often in my life when I have been with Mr. 
Tucker: he took up my thoughts almost as 
though he had read them and said: 

"I was thinking of my little girl wife, Vir- 
ginia. I so often think of her when I dance. 
She and I danced our youth away. She was a 
wonderful dancer. She had the same smooth 
glide that you have. I hate a hoppy dancer,” 
and with his usual disregard of appearances he 
wiped his eyes in which the big tears had gath- 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


253 


ered. I did feel so sorry for him, I actually had 
the hardihood to pat him on the shoulder where 
my left hand rested, but I could not say anything 
to him, I felt so choky. The sun came out in a 
very few moments, however, and he smiled into 
my eyes, and we finished the dance without ever 
losing a step. I know Mr. Jeffry Tucker is the 
only person in the world who could cry and dance 
at the same time. His tears were sincere, too, 
quite as sincere as his dancing, and he certainly 
put his whole soul into every step he took. 

“Miss Page, you have been mighty good to 
Tweedles. I don’t know how to thank you for 
it,” he said, as the music stopped and left us 
stranded across the ballroom from Father and 
the twins, also, who had been dancing with some 
college boys, home for the holidays. 

“Me good to them! Why, they are good to 
me, as good as gold !” 

“Oh, I know what you have done for them. 
They control themselves so much better than 
they used to and are so much more considerate 
in every way. I see your influence at every turn. 
They haven’t had a fight since they came home 


254 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


and actually listen when I talk, whether I have 
anything to say or not.” I had to laugh at this. 
I had really made the girls come to their senses 
about fighting when they disagreed. Even with 
gloves on, it was a very boisterous way of set- 
tling disputes; and we had a rule at 117 Carter 
Hall, instituted by me, that a fine of one penny 
was imposed when any of us interrupted, unless 
the speaker had had the floor out of all reason. 

We found the girls enthusiastic over the danc- 
ing, and Father having as good a time as any of 
us. It was his first experience in seeing the 
much written and talked-of new dances, and he 
was greatly interested. 

“Why, daughter, you dance beautifully!” he 
said fondly, as I squeezed in by him. “If you 
have learned as much Latin and French at Gre- 
sham as you have dancing, you will be a highly- 
educated young woman.” 

“Well, I can't promise that,” I laughed; “but I 
know how to conjugate ‘to dance' both in Latin 
and French.” 

“Well, to be able to conjugate as well as dance 
means you are becoming very erudite. That is a 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


255 


very pretty step that Dum has been taking. Is 
that the fox-trot? It looks easy, too.” 

"It is easy, Doctor Allison,” answered Dum, 
"and now they are going to dance it again. Come 
on and try!” And to the delight and astonish- 
ment of all of us, Father was on the floor with 
Dum fox-trotting with a precision that made us 
know he had been watching the dancers very 
carefully and had been mentally dancing for 
some time. I know he had not danced for at least 
sixteen years, but, like Miss Jane Cox, once a 
dancer, always a dancer. 

> "This is more fun than Gresham,” whispered 
Dee to me, when we stopped to rest a minute 
between dances. The college students had been 
very attentive and the twins and I had danced 
every dance. Who should come rushing up to 
us at this moment but Mabel Binks! She em j 
braced us noisily, and one would have thought we 
were her long-lost sisters. We were coldly po- 
lite, but she overlooked our want of cordiality 
and fastened herself on to us. There was noth- 
ing for us but to introduce her to Father and 
Mr. Tucker and the young men who had been 


256 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


dancing attendance on us. That was what she 
wanted, and the dead set she made at Mr. Tucker 
showed what she considered big game. The fes- 
tive Mabel, who lived in Newport News, was 
stopping in Richmond for a few days on her way 
back to Gresham. She was visiting an old cous- 
in who, she volubly explained, was too selfish to 
do anything for her pleasure. She had with 
difficulty persuaded her to bring her to the Coun- 
try Club, and now they were there the cousin 
either wouldn’t or couldn’t introduce her to any 
men. 

“I can just shift for myself, I’ll let her know!” 
the dashing girl exclaimed. “The wall is not 
meant for me to hold up, and if no one will ask 
me to dance, I’ll get out and do a pas seulT 

“I should like to see that pas seul, but first will 
you do me the extreme honor to dance this with 
me?” said Mr. Tucker, with mock grandilo- 
quence. 

“Dee-lighted !” gushed Mabel, and was soon 
engaged in a boisterous hopping match with Mr. 
Tucker. 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 257 

“I could kill Zebedee!” said Dum through 
clenched teeth. “I believe that Binks thing came 
through Richmond with the hope of meeting him, 
and here he tumbles at the first shot and goes off 

dancing with her as though it Oh, I can’t 

talk about it, it makes me so furious. Look how 
they are romping, too! I dare Dee or me to 
romp that way.” 

I could but recall the views Mr. Tucker had so 
recently expressed to me about dancers who 
hopped, and here he was jumping around like a 
hen on a hot griddle, and as far as I could see, 
enjoying himself very much. I sympathized with 
Dum ; while I did not feel called upon to get into 
a rage and clench my teeth, I was a little disap- 
pointed in my kind host. I felt very young and 
shy all of a sudden. Mabel, as she triumphantly 
bore off the prize, had in a most condescending 
way tossed me her handkerchief and gloves with 
a “Here, child, hold these for me!” That I 
would not do. The heavy smell of musk that 
hung around all of Mabel’s belongings sickened 
me ; and why should she make a catch-all of me, 
anyhow? I put them down disdainfully on a 


258 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


chair, meeting with Dum’s hearty approval by 
my act, and then had a nice quiet dance with 
Father, who proved to be as good a partner as 
one could want. 


WITH THE TUCKEK TWINS 


259 


CHAPTER XX. 

DINNER AT COUSIN PARK’S. 

Sunday dawned and with it the consciousness 
that I had to go through the ordeal of dinner 
with Cousin Park. Oh, how I hated the thought 
of it! We had slept late after the unusual hours 
we had kept the night before, and Mr. Tucker 
had kindly had our breakfast sent up from the 
cafe. 

“That’s to make up for treating us the way he 
did last night,” said Dum, buttering her cakes 
as she sat up in bed. 

“Treating us what way?” inquired Dee. 

“Dancing with that Binks abomination. He 
knew he had no business to do it.” 

“Why, Dum,” I said, determined to cool her 
down if possible, “I don’t really see how Mr. 
Tucker could have done otherwise. A school- 
mate who from all appearances is devoted to his 
daughters, joins our group and lets it be known 


260 AT BOARDING SCHOOL 

that she is dying to dance, indeed is thinking of 
dancing alone. Why, there was no way for a 
gentleman to behave than just exactly as Zeb — I 
mean Mr. Tucker — did behave. I would have 
been pleased if my Father had done exactly as 
yours did, and I believe Father would if her in- 
nuendos had been addressed to him.” 

“Well, Doctor Allison would never have 
hopped as Zebedee did. What I hate to think 
about is the way that girl is going to tell all the 
girls at school about our handsome young Father 
and how he devoted himself to her. I bet she 
comes here to-day on some pretext or other.” 

“Well, I’ll sic Brindle on her if she does. He 
can’t stand cats !” hissed Dee, who was becoming 
worked up by Dum’s evident passion. 

“Well, I’ll tell you one thing: the ruder you 
are to Mabel the more polite your Father will 
be; and the more polite you are, the more indif- 
ferent Mr. Tucker will be,” I admonished. 

“How did you get so wise, old Solomon?” 
asked Dum, in rather muffled tones through a 
mouthful of flannel cakes. 

“Why, Mammy Susan says, 'Men folks an’ 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 261 

mules is moughty simTar; jes' nachally contrary- 
wise. Ef yer want 'em ter go ter de mill, make 
out dey's got ter stay in de parsture, an' jes' ter 
spite yer dey’ll run all de way ter de mill.' ” 

“Well, well make out Zebedee has got to go 
to the mill and hell want to stay in the pasture. 
Mabel Binks is more like a mill than a pasture," 
said Dum, rather taken with my philosophy. 

“Yes, and 'All is grist that comes to her mill/ 
too," declared Dee. “I am going to try the plan 
on Zebedee this minute," and she bounced up and 
donning slippers and kimono went in to the liv- 
ing room where Mr. Tucker was deep in the Sun- 
day paper. She left the door slightly ajar and 
Dum and I could plainly hear the conversation. 

“Good morning, Zebedee," and the sound of a 
hearty kiss. “It was awfully good of you to have 
breakfast sent up to us. We did not mean to 
oversleep." 

“Glad to do it, Tweedledeedles. I thought all 
of you would be tired after tripping the light 
fantastic toe almost into Sunday morning." 

“Say, Zebedee, Page has to go to her Cousin 
Park's to dinner to-day, so don't you think it 


262 AT BOARDING SCHOOL 

would be nice to have Mabel Binks to dinner 
with us?” 

Dum gasped and started to rush into the sit- 
ting room without the formality of a kimono, 
but I grabbed her and with a warning finger 
quieted her. 

“Oh, come now, Dee, I should think you and 
Dum would be content to spend your last Sunday 
at home quietly with your poor old lonesome 
Zebedee. I can't see what you want with Miss 
Binks. She is much older than you, Tweedles, 
and not a bit the kind of person I should encour- 
age you to have as an intimate. I get the names 
of your schoolmates mixed, but wasn't she the 
girl you wrote me was so purse-proud and un- 
feeling in her treatment of that nice ladylike 
little girl from Price's Landing?” 

“Ye — s, but I thought you liked her pretty well 
last night.” 

“Why, I never gave her a thought! She so 
plainly asked me to dance with her that I had 
to do it; but that was all. She is showily hand- 
some and amusing enough in the daring way in 
which she talks, but nay, nay, not for me!” 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


263 


More sounds of kissing, and then : “Now run on 
and all of you get dressed in a hurry so we can 
take a nice spin with Henry Ford and go to 
church before Miss Page has to be delivered 
over to the Dragon.” 

“What’s that smell, Zebedee? The hall is 
reeking with a terrible odor,” asked Dee, sniffing 
suspiciously. 

“I can’t imagine. I was afraid you and Dum 
and Miss Page had gone in for musk. The 
whole apartment is permeated with it.” Dee 
went out into the little hall connecting the girls’ 
bedroom with the living room and poked around 
the hatrack, where the odor seemed to be 
strongest. 

“Here it is,” she cried, “in your overcoat 
pocket !” 

“Oh, that wretched girl’s gloves! She asked 
me to hold them for her just before we left the 
club, and I must have put them in my pocket. 
Hang ’em outside the bathroom window. That 
smell is enough to make all of us faint. Please 
turn my pocket inside out, so it can air.” 

“What did I tell you?” and Dee burst into 


264 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


the bedroom, waving the smelly gloves 'as she 
came; “the minx made Zebedee keep her gloves 
just so she could get around here. We’d better 
dress in a hurry so we can be ready to receive 
her. She might eat up poor Zebedee without his 
knowing what got him,” and she scornfully hung 
the offensive kids out the bathroom window. 

Mabel Binks did come before Dum and I were 
quite dressed, but Dee was installed in the living 
room waiting for her with Brindle at her side 
ready to sic on Mabel if she showed signs of 
walking off with the handsome young father. 

“Oh, you naughty man, I am almost sure you 
purloined my gloves last night!” we heard her 
say, in her loud and strident tones. “I thought 
I would stop in on the way to church to get 
them.” 

“Yes, he did hook them from you,” said Dum, 
making her appearance like a whirlwind. “Ze- 
bedee is great on that. He steals girls’ gloves 
all the time and gives them to Dee and me. We 
never have to buy any. All the girls get him to 
hold their gloves for them and then he brings 
them home to us and we divide them up. Here 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


265 


yours are. Zebedee did not know whose they 
were, but we recognized the perfume you are so 
fond of. They are too big for us, so we were 
not going to row over them. ,, Mr. Tucker sat 
dumfounded during this tirade of Dum’s, and 
as for me, I had to dive back in the room from 
which I was emerging to get my countenance 
straightened out. 

Dee buried her nose in Brindle’s neck and 
made such a funny little noise trying to keep 
back her laughter that Br indie growled and 
wrinkled up his neck in a most ominous manner. 
Mabel took the gloves, and for once her aplomb 
deserted her. She beat a hasty retreat with good- 
bys that were scarcely audible. 

I fully expected that Mr. Tucker would ad- 
monish Dum for the ridiculous fabrication of 
which she had been guilty, but he seemed to for- 
get all about the behavior befitting a parent, and 
caught us by the hand and in a moment we were 
dancing the Lobster Quadrille and singing lus- 
tily, “Will you, won’t you, won’t you, will you, 
will you join the dance?” 

“Now hurry up and get on your hats and jack- 


266 


AT BOAEDING SCHOOL 


ets and we will speed little Henry Ford to 
church." And off we went in a Christian frame 
of mind and at peace with the whole world, espe- 
cially Dum, who had scored heavily over the de- 
tested Mabel. 

The hour for dinner at Cousin Park's had at 
last come. How slowly I walked up the broad 
stone steps leading to her fine house! The same 
lugubrious butler opened the door that had per- 
formed that office when I visited Cousin Park 
on that other memorable occasion. He had the 
air of one who is letting in the mourners. I in- 
voluntarily glanced at the door bell to see if by 
any chance crepe could be hanging from it. 

This butler's appropriate name was Jeremiah, 
and he was what is known as “a blue-gum nig- 
ger." I smiled when I greeted him, and for a 
moment he showed his blue gums in a vain at- 
tempt at cheerfulness, but he quickly subsided 
into his habitual gloom. I recalled what Mammy 
Susan had said to me many a time: “Be mighty 
keerful, honey; don' nebber cross a blue-gum 
nigger, fer de bite er one is rank pizen and sho 
death." 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


267 


Cousin Park was seated in state in her ugly, 
handsome, oiled-walnut parlor. The room was 
of noble proportions and might have been pretty, 
but Cousin Park had happened to marry the 
genial Major at the period when oiled walnut 
was the prevailing style, and her whole life had 
been built on the oiled-walnut basis ever since. 
Her costly velvet carpets still came right to the 
edge of the floor and were snugly tacked close 
to the baseboard. No hardwood floors and rugs 
for her. 

The heavy furniture was deeply carved, and 
if the unwary visitor forgot himself for a mo- 
ment and attempted to lounge in his chair he was 
quickly brought to a sense of propriety by a 
carved pineapple getting him between his shoul- 
ders or maybe a bunch of grapes striking him in 
the small of his back. I usually tried to sit on 
the horsehair sofa. Long practice in riding 
bareback had given me a poise that enabled me 
to be very comfortable seated thus without slid- 
ing off. The pictures were hung close up to the 
ceiling according to the style in vogue in times 
gone by. They were mostly dark portraits in 


268 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


heavy gilt frames and they glared down at you as 
though they resented your intrusion into their 
mausoleum. 

Father was seated forward in his chair, try- 
ing to avoid the pineapple, and on his face was 
an expression like that of a little boy who has 
been taken to church and fears every minute to 
be questioned as to the text. I rather expected 
our stern relative to tell him to go wash his 
hands for dinner. He jumped up and hugged 
me enthusiastically, and I felt ashamed that I 
had hated so to come. Cousin Park gave me an 
upholstered embrace and I made for the horse- 
hair sofa, that seemed friendly and yielding in 
comparison with Cousin Park. 

“Well, so you have torn yourself away from 
those Tuckers long enough to do your duty, have 
you?” I scented a battle from afar, but deter- 
mined to be good and not say anything to make 
my cousin angry. No doubt she was hungry and 
would be more agreeable as soon as dinner was 
announced. 

“It is kind of you to ask me to dinner, Cousin 
Park, and I am glad to come,” I meekly replied. 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 269 

And thinking maybe it would be tactful to 
change the subject, I said to Father: “How do 
you feel after dancing last night ?” 

“Fine, daughter; I never had such a good time 
in my life.” 

“Cousin James! You — dancing! You are 
surely jesting — you — you — a man of your age!” 

“Oh, I’m not so awfully old, Cousin Park! 
There were men on the floor ten years older 
than I am — bank presidents, eminent surgeons, 
and several judges, all dancing the new dances 
with the utmost abandon.” 

“Well, where on earth did you learn the new 
dances, Cousin James?” 

“Well, I never saw them danced before, so it 
must have been by a correspondence course.” 
And Father winked at me. 

The sepulchral butler came in to announce din- 
ner just at this crucial moment when his irate 
mistress looked as though she would burst her 
tight black satin basque in which she had been 
so compactly hooked. He quavered in a sad 
voice : “Dinner is served,” but his tone remind- 
ed me of Jeremiah, Chapter IX, first verse: “Oh, 


270 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


that my head were waters and mine eyes a foun- 
tain of tears that I might weep day and night !’* 
The dining room was one degree more cheer- 
ful than the parlor, as instead of the portraits 
there were Audubon prints and the Marriage of 
Pocahontas. A heavy walnut sideboard laden 
with massive silver almost filled one side of the 
room. The table was precisely set and the food 
may have been good, but everything was so pon- 
derous, including the hostess, that when we got 
through with the long tiresome courses I felt 
like the old wolf that Mammy Susan used to tell 
about. He swallowed seven little kids whole 
and then, while he slept by the water's edge, the 
Widow Goat came and ripped him open, took out 
the dear little kids and put in their place seven 
huge stones. The old wolf was naturally thirsty 
after this surgical operation, and so was I when 
I had packed in and hammered down roast 
chicken, boiled hominy, mashed potatoes, baked 
rice, macaroni and I don't know what besides, 
except that we topped off with a plum pudding 
that was the last straw. 



Dum looked at me aghast. “Page, you here, and Dee!” 

— Page 271, 













. 





















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WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


271 


I longed for sleep with an intensity that was 
truly painful, and I could see that poor dear 
Father was desperate. The conversation at the 
table was as heavy and starchy as the food. 
Father and I could not help comparing it to the 
gay little dinner we had enjoyed the night be- 
fore at the Country Club. 

Cousin Park’s manner was always dictatorial, 
even when she was the visitor instead of the hos- 
tess, and on that day she seemed to think she 
was born to boss the Universe. She picked on 
me most of the time and I let her do it, know- 
ing Father must have had his share of correc- 
tion, but when she began on my friends, the 
darling Tuckers, I got a little restive. Mammy 
Susan always told me: '‘Don’t sass old folks 
till dey fust sass you,” and I began to feel that 
old folks were sassing me considerably. I smiled 
to myself, remembering that Mr. Tucker had 
told me that when the Major died, at his funeral 
they sang "Peace, perfect peace,” and the pall 
bearers themselves could hardly keep from grin- 
ning to think what a far from peaceful time the 
poor Major had had on earth. 


272 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


Father came to my rescue when our masterful 
cousin finally sprung this mine on us : “I am as- 
tonished, Cousin James, that you should have 
no more sense of propriety than to let Page visit 
that Jeffry Tucker without a chaperon." 

“Why, Cousin Park, you astonish me! Page 
is visiting Mr. Tucker's daughters, her school- 
mates. They are all three very young to have 
a question of propriety brought up." 

“I don't care, a woman is never too young or 
too old to be made the subject of gossip," and 
Cousin Park creaked ominously. 

“Well, that being the case, I think it is highly 
improper and imprudent for me to be visiting 
you, unless we can look upon Jeremiah as a 
chaperon." 

And Cousin Park, knowing herself to be 
worsted, sighed a great, heaving sigh and looked 
sadly at the Major's portrait, as though if he 
had been alive he would have protected her. 

How glad we were to hear the toot of Henry 
Ford and to know that our time in purgatory 
was over. The fresh air took away that awful 
drowsiness, and the cheerful talk of the Tuckers 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


273 


as we spun out into the country made us forget 
the deadly conversation we had been forced to 
be a party to. Father had an engagement for 
supper with a medical brother, and he was to go 
back to Bracken the next day. 

“Blood may be thicker than water,” he said. 
“In fact, to-day it was so thick you couldn’t stir 
it, but never again do I intend to make a visit at 
Cousin Park Garnett’s. Why, I feel as though 
that blue-gum nigger had bitten me.” 


274 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


CHAPTER XXL 

THE DESPERATION OE DUM. 

Back at Gresham and trying to get into har- 
ness! Some of us kicked over the traces, feel- 
ing our oats, as it were; and Dum got the bit 
between her teeth and came very near running 
all the way home before we could stop her. 

It was hard to get into what Mr. Mantilini 
calls “the demnition grind” after three weeks of 
untrammeled freedom. The whole school seemed 
restive and the teachers were not much better 
than the pupils. Miss Peyton had to drive her 
coach very carefully. Her infinite tact showed 
itself constantly. A word of warning here, a 
slight tightening of the reins there, just a little 
tap to the ones who seemed inclined to laziness, 
and soon we were trotting along the road of 
knowledge just as though we had not been kick- 
ing up our heels in the green pastures. All but 
Dum, she could not get back to work. 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 275 

“If the year were only half over, but it’s only 
the middle of January now! We've got months 
and months to wait before we see Zebedee again. 
When we once get into February, I can stand it 
better. I can't and won't study, and as for de- 
merits — let ’em give me all they want to. Let 
'em put me in bounds. I don’t want to go off 
of the old place. What fun is it to walk down 
into that dinky little village keeping step like 
convicts? I’d rather have striped clothes like 
convicts than these old stupid blue things. There 
is some variety in stripes but this eternal, and 
everlasting dark blue — ugh! I hate it!" 

“But, Dum," I expostulated, “if you get so 
many demerits you will not only be in bounds 
but you'll have to write pages and pages of dic- 
tionary." 

“I'll see 'em make me. ‘You can lead a horse 
to water but you cannot make him drink.' They 
can tell me to write the dictionary all they want 
to, but I've yet to see the man, woman, or child 
who can make me write anything. I just won't 
and that's an end of it." 

“But what will your Father think?" I asked. 


276 AT BOARDING SCHOOL 

hoping to get on her better side by appealing to 

her love for her adored Zebedee. 

“Think? ‘He can think like young niggers 
think : buckeyes is biscuit.’ ” 

This made me roar, as it was a saying I had 
told the twins that Mammy Susan had taught 
me when I was a child. There was no persuad- 
ing the headstrong Dum. She had the bit be- 
tween her teeth and she was rushing straight to 
destruction. She got zero in her classes during 
the day, and that night in study hall she spent 
the time making cunning little brownies out of 
the colored clay she had brought in her pocket. 
She did not open a book except for the purpose 
of propping it up on her desk to conceal the lit- 
tle lifelike figures she was so busy modeling. 

Dee gazed at her with an agonized expression 
on her face and I gave her many an appealing 
glance, but she merely made a face at me and 
went on with her sculpture. Where was it to 
end? Zero for that day’s lessons and many pre- 
ceding days; and not a single one prepared for 
next day. She seemed perfectly careless of the 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 277 

teacher who was keeping study hall, as though 
she invited reproval ; but it so happened that Miss 
Sears, who was on duty that night, did not seem 
to notice Dum’s behavior. When the study hall 
was over, the reckless girl picked up all her 
brownies and carried them carefully on her open 
book up to her room, right under Miss Sears’s 
nose. 

“She must be crazy,” whispered Dee to me, 
“and Miss Sears must be in love or blind or 
something. She didn’t see how Dum was cut- 
ting up.” 

“Well, Dum was certainly reckless. I thought 
every minute she was going to be called down. 
You’ve got to be either good or careful, and 
Dum was certainly neither.” 

Miss Sears beckoned to me and I fell back, and 
the Tuckers went on to 117. 

“Page,” said Miss Sears, “Miss Peyton is 
rather worried over Virginia Tucker. Of course 
I saw how she was conducting herself during 
study hall, but Miss Peyton has decided the best 
way to get hold of Dum is to let her alone for a 
while. The rest of the school is back in working 


278 


AT BOAEDING SCHOOL 


order, but she is as wild as a deer. Miss Peyton 
asked me to take you into our confidence and 
see if you can help us some. Will you keep a 
pretty sharp eye on Dum?” 

“You mean tell on her if she gets into 
scrapes ?” I asked, flushing painfully. 

“My dear girl, no. You would not be the kind 
we would go to if we wanted an informer. We 
want you to try to influence Dum to quiet down, 
and let her realize that she must get to work. 
Demerits seem to have no effect on her. I verily 
believe she enjoys getting as many as she can. 
You have lots of influence with those girls, and 
I believe a talk from you would do her more 
good than being brought up before the faculty/' 
and Miss Sears looked at me very kindly. 

“Well, I'll do my best but I can't promise that 
Dum will listen to me." I did not like to say that 
I had already done what I could, but I deter- 
mined to try, try again. 

Dum had her brownies ranged in a line on the 
bureau and under each she had tucked one of 
her visiting cards, on which she had written 
something. Dee looked sad and Dum defiant. 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 279 

“I was just telling Dum,” began Dee. 

“Never mind what you were telling Dum,” in- 
terrupted the outrageous girl. “It's none of your 
business nor is it Page Allison's if I get into 
scrapes. I reckon I’m old enough to take care 
of myself without the assistance of persons no 
older nor wiser than I am.” 

“So you are, but you owe a penny for inter- 
rupting Dee; that’s twenty-five cents since the 
holidays,” I said sternly. 

“I don’t care if I do. I don’t intend to pay it. 
I need my money for other things besides this 
foolishness.” 

I looked at Dum in amazement. She and Dee 
often were rude to each other but in the three 
months that I had known them, neither one of 
them had been anything but scrupulously polite 
to me. I realized that silence would be the better 
part of valor in this encounter, so I prepared 
for bed without saying a word. I gave a warn- 
ing glance at Dee, and she, ever tactful, held her 
peace. Dum was evidently disappointed, as she 
was simply “sp’iling for a fight.” 

We got to bed as lights out bell rang and in 


280 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


a moment everything was perfectly quiet. I did 
not go to sleep immediately but pondered over 
what Miss Sears had said. "How can I best help 
Dum?” I asked myself. I must keep an eye on 
her and still not let her know it. It was hard 
to take her rudeness without giving her as good 
as she sent, but I felt that a real loss of temper 
on my part would mean an equal loss of influ- 
ence. I dropped off to sleep with Dum on my 
mind. 

It must have been a little after midnight when 
I awakened, and something prompted me to 
glance at Dum’s bed. It was a bright night, the 
moon not full, but big enough to make every- 
thing in the room visible. A light snow was on 
the ground, which aided the lighting powers of 
the moon by reflection. 

Dum’s bed was empty. Her nightgown was 
on the floor and her clothes which I had seen her 
throw on the chair near her bed were gone. I 
got up in an excitement that made my heart go 
like a trip hammer and found her hat and jacket 
gone, too. 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 281 

“Dee, Dee,” I said in as quiet a voice as I 
could command, “Dum is gone!” 

“Gone! Gone where?” said poor sleepy Dee. 

“I don’t know, but it is up to us to find out. 
Get into your clothes as fast as you can. I don’t 
believe she has been gone long, her bed is so 
warm.” 

I had felt it as soon as I jumped out of mine. 
Dee shuddered at this announcement of mine. 
She said afterward it sounded like the report of 
a coroner’s inquest. 

Fire engine horses could not have sprung into 
their harness quicker than Dee and I did into our 
clothes. In a twinkling we were wrapped in our 
warm sweaters and had donned hats and rub- 
bers, the last not only because of the snow but 
to deaden our footsteps down the long corri- 
dors. I got ready a moment sooner than Dee 
and I struck a match and read one of the cards 
Dum had stuck under the little clay brownies: 
“To Miss Peyton as a parting token of apprecia- 
tion of her discipline.” I gasped with astonish- 
ment. Dum was crazy surely, perfectly daft. 

“What is on the card?” asked Dee anxiously. 


282 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


“Oh, just some of Dum’s nonsense! Hurry !” 
I did not think I had better tell Dee. It sounded 
like a last farewell. 

We found the front door unlocked. She had 
certainly gone out recently, as the watchman 
made his rounds every hour and it was then 
12:20 by the big clock in the hall. I know the 
wisest thing for us to have done would have been 
to warn the watchman and let Miss Peyton 
know, but somehow I felt that we could cope 
with Dum by ourselves; and I also knew that 
the offense that Dum was guilty of was a very 
serious one and might mean that she would be 
expelled from Gresham. 

“The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow. 
Gave a luster of midday to objects below.” 

So, thank goodness, the prints of Dum’s ten- 
nis shoes were quite plain to us. I was relieved 
to see that they went toward the village. I had 
had a nameless fear of the lake. On we sped! 
Once we saw where poor Dum had evidently 
paused and then turned back for a few yards. 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


283 


That encouraged me more than anything we had 
found out yet She was softening and relent- 
ing. 

"What do you suppose she means to do, 
Page?” panted Dee. 

"She is trying to make that 12:40 train to 
Richmond. There she is!” 

We had turned a sharp corner and there about 
a hundred yards ahead of us was Dum. She had 
almost reached the crossing where Captain Leahy 
had his unique abode. One minute more would 
land her at the station, and already we could 
hear the far-off whizzing of the approaching ex- 
press. There was a light in the little gatehouse 
and just at that moment the dear old man 
emerged and began to let down his gate. 

"Well, Saints preserve us! And what maid 
travels so late? Why, if she isn't one of the 
sponsors of Oliver.” Dum stopped stockstill in 
the road. 

"Captain Leahy, I'm going to take that mid- 
night train to Richmond. Will you flag it for 
me?” 

"And sure Til do anything to please the ladies, 


284 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


but aren’t ye young and tinder to be after tak- 
ing such a thrip at this toime o’ night ?” 

“But I have to go. I could never go back 
to Gresham now, and it would be best for me to 
go straight to my Father/’ 

Dee and I had advanced silently, thanks to 
our rubber shoes, and we now came up behind 
the old Irishman and Dum. 

“Come on, Dum, you can get back to Gresham 
before the watchman makes his one o’clock 
rounds if you hurry.” 

Dum looked at me aghast. “Page, you here, 
and Dee!” 

“Where should I be but with my twin? We 
have never spent a night apart yet, Dumpling- 
deedledums.” Dee’s tact had won the day. That 
was Mr. Tucker’s pet name for Dum, and Dee 
using it at such a time brought Dum to her 
senses. “What would Zebedee think and say of 
this escapade?” was what came to Dum’s mind. 

“Good-night, Captain, I reckon I won’t go to 
Richmond to-night. We’ll have to hurry to get 
in before one. That’s the 12:40 now whistling 
for the crossing.” And before the old man could 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


285 


get his breath, we had scurried away over the 
light fall of snow like so many rabbits. 

It was uphill most of the way back to Gre- 
sham, but we made short work of it. If I had 
not been so desperately afraid the watchman 
would discover that the front door was unlocked 
before we got back and perhaps raise an alarm, 
I would have enjoyed our run immensely. The 
moon went behind a great black cloud, but we 
knew our way well enough not to be dependent on 
her light. Not one word did we speak, but saved 
our breath for this real fox-trot. 

At the school at last! I tried the great door, 
almost afraid to breathe. It yielded to my push 
and we were in the dark hall. I had just sense 
enough left to lock the door, and then we flew 
up the steps and were safe in our room with- 
out having encountered the watchman. 

“Quick work!” I gasped, falling on my bed. 
“Down to the station and back in forty min- 
utes !” 

But safety was not ours yet. We heard a 
door open down the corridor and light-slippered 
steps approaching 117. 


s' 286 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


“In bed with you, quick !” exclaimed Dum; 
and without the formality of night dresses, we 
jumped into bed, only taking the precaution to 
remove our hats. Diving under the covers with 
only our noses sticking out, we were to all ap- 
pearances as lost to the world as the seven sleep- 
ers. 

It was a teacher who had evidently heard a 
suspicious noise and had come out to investigate. 
She stopped a minute in front of our door and 
then gently turned the knob. “All quiet along 
the Potomac !” She stood a minute listening to 
Dum’s “gently taken breath” and Dee’s lifelike 
snore, and then quietly retired on tiptoe; and in 
a moment we heard her door close at the end of 
the corridor. If we got dressed like engine 
horses going to a fire, we got undressed like 
boys seeing who can get into the swimming hole 
first. 

Dum kissed us both good-night, or rather 
good-morning, but said never a word about what 
her intentions had been nor the reasons for her 
flitting. We were asleep in a minute and the 
next morning I had to pinch myself to see if it 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


.87 


had not been a dream. Our damp skirts and 
overshoes and each girl’s hat under her bed was 
all that made me realize that we had been on 
that mad chase at midnight after the irrepres- 
sible Dum. 

“Girls, you are both bricks !” exclaimed Dum, 
rubbing her eyes as the relentless rising bell 
tolled out. “Just think! If you had not come 
for me, I would have been in Richmond by this 
time and poor old Zebedee disgraced for life. 
There is nothing I can do to make it up to 


“Yes, there is,” chorused Dee and me, “get to 
work again.” 

“I wasn’t quite through what I was saying, 
but I am not going to impose the fine that you 
owe for interrupting, and I am going to pay my 
fine that amounts to a quarter now. I was aw- 
fully ashamed of not paying it last night, but 
you see I just did have enough money to get 
me to Richmond if I traveled on a day coach, 
so I had to let my debts of honor slide. I have 
been a bad, rude, unreasonable girl and I am 
just as sorry as I can be. I deserve to be ex- 


288 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


pelled. I don’t know what has been the matter 
with me but I believe I have been getting ready 
to go to the home for the criminally insane. I 
hated the school; I hated the teachers; I hated 
lessons and rules; I just wanted Zebedee. He 
was the only person I wanted and I wanted him 
so bad I was just going to have him.” Dum got 
out one of the gentlemen’s handkerchiefs that 
she and Dee used and wept copiously. “Do you 
reckon we’ll be found out?” 

“Not a bit of it,” I reassured her. “The 
blessed snow that was in that black cloud hiding 
the moon last night has covered up all our rab- 
bit tracks, and when we take our walk this after- 
noon I am going to slip out of line long enough 
to warn Captain Leahy not to tell on us. Now, 
Dum, you get back to bed and stay there all day. 
I am going to tell Miss Peyton you don’t feel 
quite up to snuff, which is certainly so. You 
jump in and study all your back lessons that you 
have missed and catch up with your classes. It 
will take a day of diligent work to do it because 
you have loafed ever since we got back to school, 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


289 


and by to-morrow morning you will feel recon- 
ciled to life and take your place again.” 

‘Well, that would be kind of pleasant, but 
bring me up enough breakfast, ’cause I am not 
too ill to eat; and before you go down, hand me 
those brownies I made last night,” and Dum 
reduced the inoffensive little works of art to Lim- 
bo with one squeeze of her hand. “I was leav- 
ing one of them for each teacher. I wanted to 
make them into devils but thought maybe that 
would be a little too sassy. I don’t feel a bit 
that way now. I may model some angels to- 
day if I can get time after I have mastered all 
my back work.” 

Miss Peyton was easily persuaded by me that 
a day in bed would restore Dum to health and 
reason. She said she had hoped I could do some- 
thing with the refractory twin and she was go- 
ing to trust to me, since I was a doctor’s daugh- 
ter and no doubt had inherited some skill as a 
healer. 

That afternoon, when we took our walk, Dee 
and I got permission from the teacher in charge 
to stop a moment at the crossing, presumably 


290 AT BOARDING SCHOOL 

to call on Oliver and see how much he had 
grown. 

“Captain Leahy,” I cried, “you won’t tell any- 
one about our being down here last night, will 
you ?” 

“And phwat do ye take me for?” he asked. 
“Didn’t I see that ye were after saving the lit- 
tle twinlet and that she was crazy with home- 
sickness? I mind too well the time many years 
ago when I got off of that very express just as 
Miss Peyton, then a wee slip of a maid, was 
after boarding it ; and I took her by the hand and 
led her back to Gresham, she weeping bitterly 
all the toime. She was half mad for the sight 
of her folks and had run away from school.” 

“Miss Peyton!” we exclaimed in one breath. 
“Not Miss Peyton, the principal?” 

“The same,” he answered; “and this is the first 
toime, so help me, that I have mintioned it to a 
livin’ sowl.” 

“Well, we’ll never tell, Captain,” I said, grasp- 
ing his hand. 

“And don’t I know that? Would I be divulg- 
ing the loiks to ye if I did not know the stoof 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


291 


ye are made of? I just tell ye so ye can know 
that I’ll keep the little twinlet’s secret as long 
as I have Miss Peyton's. If I iver tell it, it will 
be when she cannot be hurt by it, and some other 
poor little lamb can be oop-lifted." 

“You want us to tell Dum, don't you?" asked 
Dee. 

“For sure ! And all of you come have tea with 
me soon and bring Miss Peyton." 

We joined the line of blue-coated girls after 
a sharp run and then had to make up things to 
say about Oliver, because we had forgot even to 
ask about him. 

Miss Cox spoke to me on the way to supper 
that evening. She looked worried and her face 
was crookeder than ever, but her eyes had a very 
kind light in them. 

“Did I wake you last night, Page, when I 
opened your door?" 

“Oh, was that you?" I involuntarily ex- 
claimed. 

“I had an idea some of you were awake," and 
the kindly woman smiled at my ingenuous ac- 
knowledgment. “I was afraid to knock, hoping 


292 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


you were asleep, so I tried the door and peeped 
in. I did not mean to be spying, but I have been 
very uneasy about Dum lately. I was afraid she 
needed some friendly advice. I had been writ- 
ing late and had not been able to get to sleep, 
and I was almost certain I heard the front door 
open and shut. I simply could not rest without 
making sure that you three girls were safe in 
your downies. I had thought I heard something 
some forty minutes before but tried to make my- 
self think I was just a foolish, nervous old maid.” 

I felt very foolish during this talk and could 
hardly look kind Miss Cox in the eye, but I did 
not consider it to be my secret and I said noth- 
ing. Mammy Susan always said: “The saftest 
thing in fly time is ter keep yo’ mouf shet,” and 
I felt that this was fly time for me. 

“I have written to Mr. Tucker,” Miss Cox 
continued. “I don’t want the twins to know it, 
but I felt it was my duty as an old friend of 
both their parents to let him know how miser- 
able Dum is.” 

“Oh, I have written, too!” I cried. “I wish I 
could stop my letter now, but it is too late. Poor 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 293 

Mr. Tucker will think things are in a terrible 
way with Dum. I believe she is herself again 
now after a day in bed, but I just felt I must let 
him know that an early visit from him would be 
advisable. I wouldn't let Tweedles find out for 
a million that I have done it." 

“Well, you keep my secret and I'll keep yours. 
I am glad the Tuckers, father and daughters, 
' have such a wholesome friend as you," and Miss 
Cox pressed my hand warmly. 


294 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


CHAPTER XXII. 
more: IvEtters. 

From Miss Jane Cox to Mr. Jeffry Tucker. 
My dear Jeff: 

I feel it my duty to write you in regard to 
your daughter Virginia. I told you I would look 
after your girls and I have tried to, but since 
the holidays Dum has been very difficult and the 
teachers hardly know how to cope with her. . My 
private opinion is that the child is longing so for 
you that she is in a fair way to be made sick by 
it. A vacation of three weeks seems to be very 
upsetting and a great many of the pupils find 
it hard to get back into line, but Dum does not 
even want to, so far as I can see. 

I do not mean to complain of Dum. You sure- 
ly understand that, but I want to let you know 
the state of affairs. I am writing entirely on 
my own hook as your friend and the friend of 
the other little Virginia, companion of my 
youth. I fancy Miss Peyton would not approve 
of my doing it, as she feels able to master poor 
Dum by kindness ; but I have studied her closely 
and feel that I understand her temperament bet- 
ter than our beloved principal. I have been 
afraid the child might take it into her head to 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


295 


run away from school. It is not that she does 
not like Gresham. I believe she likes it very 
much. She is popular with the whole school and 
has many friends. She is a good student and 
has done well up to the time she returned from 
Richmond. Since that time her marks have been 
zero. 

Page Allison, who has a very good influence 
on all the girls with whom she comes in contact, 
is looking after her and she may be able to bring 
her to reason; but in the meantime, my dear 
Jeff, I want you to write to Dum very often, — 
of course not mentioning the fact that you have 
heard from me, — and give her hopes of a visit 
from you in the near future. That would mean 
everything to her. 

Of course, an attempt to run away from school 
would be a very serious fault if discovered, be- 
cause of the effect on the rest of the pupils. I 
don't want to alarm you, but I feel that I would 
be a poor friend indeed if I did not let you know 
of the trouble your little daughter is in a fair 
way to get herself into. Dee is back at work 
and doing finely, although as a rule she is not 
a better student than Dum. I am told that dur- 
ing study hall this evening Dum made no effort 
to concentrate on her lessons, but spent the whole 
time modeling grotesque little figures in colored 
clay. 

Hoping you will take this information as it is 
meant, not thinking that I am a “tattle tale tit,” 
but that I have the welfare of the children of 
my old friends very much at heart, and that it 


296 AT BOARDING SCHOOL 

would be a cowardly and selfish act for me to 
hold back for fear of being misunderstood, I am, 
Your sincere friend, 

Jinny Cox. 

From Mr. Jeffry Tucker to Miss Jane Cox. 
Jinny dear: 

You always were a trump, and I can never ex- 
press to you the gratitude I feel for the letter 
you have written me about my poor little head- 
strong Dum. She was particularly docile about 
returning to school, but as I told her good-by at 
the station she had a kind of smoldering look in 
her eyes that bodest no good. She has the most 
generous and kind heart in the world, but has 
always been the more difficult of the twins to 
manage. The matter is she has an artistic tem- 
perament, but I have been trying to conceal this 
fact from her all her life, as I think when a per- 
son once discovers he has an artistic tempera- 
ment, he can commit any crime in the name of 
his temperament and feel that the world must 
forgive him. I want my little Virginia to un- 
derstand that it is up to her to behave just as 
well as the ordinary folks who have no tempera- 
ment to speak of. I am writing to her by this 
mail, but of course she is never to know you 
wrote to me. I am coming up to Gresham for a 
little visit just as soon as my strenuous duties 
will permit, and then I hope we can have another 
Lobster Quadrille. 

I am very thankful that Tweedles has such a 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 297 

delightful companion as Miss Page Allison. She 
has improved them more than all the schooling 
in the world would. I am also thankful beyond 
measure that they have found such a friend as 
you are, dear Jinny. Keep on being good to 
them and if Dum shows further signs of insub- 
ordination, please telegraph me. I’ll come, if no 
newspaper is published from this office for a 
month! Thanking you again, dear friend, in my 
name and also for the little Virginia, companion 
of your youth, 

Very truly yours, 

Jkrrry Tucker. 

From Page Allison to Mr. Jeffry Tucker. 

Dear Mr. Tucker: 

I can’t bear to worry you, but I think you 
ought to know that. Dum wants to see you mighty 
bad. She has been very restless since we got 
back to Gresham; and while she is quieter now 
and says she is going to study hard and be a 
model pupil henceforth, I am afraid she will 
break down because she has so many demerits to 
work off. Miss Peyton has been very kind and 
patient, but of course it would not be fair to the 
other students to let up on Dum; and I believe 
she has enough demerits to keep her in bounds 
for about three weeks. 

Now please don’t think I am bossy, but if you 
could write her and tell her that you think you 
might get up to Gresham in about three weeks, 
that would give her some ambition to work off 


298 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


those marks and not get any others. You see, 
if she is in bounds when you come, she can’t see 
much of you. 

I don’t want Tweedles to know I am writing 
this to you, but if you should mention having 
got a letter from me, you can call it a “bread 
and butter letter.” 

You were so kind to me on my visit to the 
girls. I had about the gayest and best time I 
ever had in my life, and I do want to thank you 
for it 

Very sincerely, 

Page: Aeeison. 

Miss Page Allison, from Mr. Jeffry Tucker. 
My dear Miss Page: 

Your word is law ! In three weeks’ time I will 
be in Gresham. I don’t consider you a bit bossy 
but very sweet and kind and wise. Thank God, 
my poor little Dum has made such a friend. I 
wish I could flatter myself that I could call you 
friend as my girls can. I thank you from my 
soul for your interest in Tweedles. 

Most gratefully, 

Jeffry Tucker. 

Mr. Jeffry Tucker to his daughters, Virginia and 
Caroline. 

Dearest and best beloved Tweedles: 

Surely “ ’tis an ill wind that blows nobody any 
good!” Know you that there has been a big 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


299 


shooting scrape up in the mountains, and it is 
of such importance that I have decided to cover 
the trial myself instead of sending a reporter. 
This trial comes off in a little over three weeks, 
and as Gresham is on the way, I am going to 
stop off to see my babies, and hope they will be 
glad to have their old Zebedee with them for a 
day or so. I’ll manage to get there on Saturday 
afternoon and stay until Monday night. Be 
good girls until then, so you will not have any 
hateful demerits to work off. 

I miss you so much, more than I did at first, 
but Fm trying to be a very good boy and stick 
to business. I can hardly wait to see you. Give 
my kindest regards to Miss Page, and tell her 
not to get any demerits between now and the 
time of my visit, as she must do whatever the 
Tuckers do on that visit. 

Your own Zebedse. 


300 


AT BOAEDING SCHOOL 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

ZEBEDEE^S VISIT. 

Mr. Tucker’s promise of a visit did all that I 
knew it would for Dum. She worked off her de- 
merits without a murmur; studied her lessons 
diligently; soon caught up in her classes; and 
was altogether an exemplary Dum. 

If his promise of a visit worked such won- 
ders, his visit completed the miracle. We had 
already come through our mid-year examina- 
tions, some with flying colors and some with tat- 
tered banners like the poor Confederate flags 
that you see in the Valentine Museum in Rich- 
mond, — but the thing was that we were through 
and none of our little crowd of cronies had failed. 
Annie Pore carried off the honors in Latin, 
thanks to the drilling she had been brought up 
on by the severe Oxford graduate. Dum was 
easily first in mathematics. Dee seemed to know 
the physiology off by heart. History was Mary 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 301 

Flannigan’s forte and not a date from Noah's 
flood to the San Francisco earthquake could 
stump her. Literature was what most interested 
me, and it would have been silly not to get an 
honor when it did seem so easy. 

We were rather proud of our achievements as 
a coterie of chums, and Miss Peyton, as a re- 
ward of merit, let all of us go to the station to 
meet Mr. Tucker, accompanied by Miss Cox. 

How good it was to see him ! I believe I was 
almost as glad as Tweedles. He looked very 
boyish indeed as he swung off the Pullman, a 
suitcase in one hand and a great basket, neatly 
covered with purple paper, in the other. 

“I know what that purple paper means," cried 
Dee from afar. “He’s been to Schmidt’s and 
that basket’s full of goodies.’’ 

So he had, and, Zebedee like, had a proposi- 
tion for pleasure. I have seldom seen Mr. 
Tucker that he did not have some scheme on 
hand for amusement for someone, and the best 
thing about it was that he usually was ready to 
partake of the fun himself; and his partaking of 


302 AT BOARDING SCHOOL 

it meant there was twice as much fun as there 
would have been without him. 

“There’s skating on the lake surely?” he 
asked. 

“Yes! Yes!” in chorus. 

“Well, come along, and I’ll get permission 
from your Lord High Executioner to take all 
of you skating, and we’ll have supper on the 
bank. What do you say to that, Jinny?” 

“Splendid ! I haven’t skated for years, 
though.” 

“Have you got your skates?” 

“Oh, yes; you see this is all the home I have, 
so I’ve got everything I possess here.” 

“And you girls? All of you have skates that 
fit and shoes to skate in?” 

“Yes! Yes!” And off we went, the gayest 
crowd imaginable. Of course Miss Peyton let 
us go. No one had ever refused Mr. Tucker 
anything in reason, I am sure, nor had he ever 
asked for anything out of reason. 

“Will you have enough food for such a crowd? 
Had you not better come back to Gresham to 
supper?” asked Miss Peyton. 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


303 


“Never fear. I have food enough for a dozen 
boys. I’ll take good care of all of them and 
bring them back at bedtime.” 

There was another crowd on the lake when we 
got there: a party of Greshamites, Juniors and 
Seniors, and some boys from Hill-Top. The ice 
was perfect, and while the air was cold, it was 
not cutting but dry and invigorating. We put 
our basket in a safe place; that is, a place where 
everyone could see it. Mr. Tucker said the way 
to lose things, especially food, was to hide it. 
So he placed it on top of a little hillock over- 
looking the lake, where it looked like a great 
bunch of violets against the patches of snow. 

Our skates did fit and our shoes were suitable,, 
so we were on the ice in no time. One of the 
most irritating things under Heaven is to go 
skating with persons whose skates don’t fit or 
whose heels are too high or soles too thin. I had 
learned to skate on the duck pond at home; and 
while on the duck pond my stroke had been neces- 
sarily limited, I found when I got on the broad 
lake I could hold my own very well. 

Annie Pore was timid and faltering if she tried 


304 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


to skate alone but did very well if she had a 
partner. Mary Flannigan, singularly ungrace- 
ful but a real racer, with flapping arms and 
bowed legs, could get over the ice faster than 
the fleetest boy from Hill-Top. The twins skated 
well, as they did everything in the way of ath- 
letics, and wonderfully handsome they looked 
skimming over the lake arm in arm. 

Miss Cox was a revelation to us all. She had 
not skated for years but her stroke was as sure 
as it had ever been and in five minutes she and 
Mr. Tucker were doing the double Dutch roll 
together, now frontward, now backward, with 
all kinds of intricate strokes. I suddenly re- 
alized that with all of her crooked homeliness. 
Miss Cox was far from plain. Her figure was 
singularly graceful and her head very well set. 

The boys cheered as they approached the far 
bank, where the ice was a little better. 

^Who’s all right? Who’s all right? 

Miss Cox, Miss Cox! Out of sight!” 

I was supporting Annie Pore, so was neces- 
sarily going slowly, and I heard one of the 
Juniors say to Mabel Binks, who was looking 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 305 

very handsome in a red silk sweater and cap to 
match: “Who's the man with Miss Cox? They 
are some skaters, for sure.” 

“Oh, hello !” exclaimed Mabel. “If that ain't 
my beau from Richmond !” 

I did not hear any more, but I felt amused a 
little and indignant a good deal. Harvie Price 
was among the boys and he immediately skated 
up and got in between Annie and me. He was 
a strong skater and soon we found ourselves do- 
ing stunts with him that we had not dreamed pos- 
sible. 

“That Dutch roll is not so hard when you get 
the hang of it. See, like this — raise your right 
foot, not too high — strike out with your left, 
a good long stroke, and then down with your 
right, crossing the left. Just look at us ! We are 
not quite up to Mr. Tucker and Miss Cox, but 
we surely are good enough to have some notice 
taken of us.” And so we were. 

“Pride goeth before a fall,” however, and just 
as we were getting the hang of the stroke, we 
ran plump into Mary Flannigan and Shorty, 
who were having a race backward, and the five 


306 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


of us fell into an ignominious heap. Nobody 
was hurt, not even feelings! Mr. Tucker picked 
me up and skated off with me. 

“Who was that good-looking young fellow you 
were skating with?” 

“Oh, that was Harvie Price. He’s a mighty 
nice boy, and an old friend of Annie Pore’s.” 

“And that little runty boy with the bright 
face, the cause of your recent disaster, who was 
he?” 

“Tommy Hawkins, — Shorty! Isn’t he nice- 
looking?” 

“Yes, very! I’m going to ask these boys to 
stay and have supper with us. You introduce me, 
and then I’ll make myself known to the teacher 
I see over there; and if I include him in the in- 
vitation, maybe I can get permission for the 
boys to stay.” 

Of course the boys were delighted and with a 
great deal of finesse, Mr. Tucker ingratiated 
himself into the affections of the teacher who 
had them in charge, a Mr. Anderson, and he ac- 
cepted for himself with alacrity and gave the 
boys permission. 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 307 

“I wish I had grub enough for the whole ship’s 
crew of them,” sighed Mr. Tucker. “If there is 
anything in the world I like, it is to give a boy 
a treat. But seven of us and Mr. Anderson and 
the two boys will just about clean up my basket. 
I wanted to ask four boys so we could 'balance 
all/ but I was so afraid of running short.” 

Mabel Binks had been circling around us, de- 
termined to attract Mr. Tucker’s attention. He 
had given her a polite bow but held tightly to 
my hands and skated on by her. She was a good 
skater and her red sweater showed off her figure 
to great advantage. Dum and Dee came racing 
up to us and we all caught hold of hands and 
went the length of the lake together. 

“Don’t we four get on well together, Zebe- 
dee?” exclaimed Dee. 

“We certainly do,” he answered heartily. 
“Miss Page seems to be just the oil needed to 
make us, salt, pepper, vinegar, hot Tuckers into 
a palatable dressing.” 

“Look here, Zebedee, it is up to you to skate 
with that despicable thing, Mabel Binks,” and 
Dum looked sternly at her parent. 


308 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


“I don’t see it that way,” he answered coolly. 

“Well, you see she has gone around claiming 
you as her Richmond beau who came up to Gre- 
sham to see her, and now she says that I won’t 
let you skate with her.” 

“Too bad, that,” he laughed. “Well, honey, 
you can tell her that you have no influence over 
me at all. You could not keep me from skating 
with her nor can you make me do it.” 

The machinations of Mabel, however, were be- 
yond our ken. She came bearing down on us, 
all sails spread as it were. We tacked as best 
we could, but the determined girl turned at that 
moment and skated backward right into our line. 
Dee, who was next to me, broke and avoided 
her, but I got the collision full force and went 
down with an awful whack, with Mabel’s hun- 
dred and fifty pounds right on top of me. 

“The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men, 
Gang aft a-gley.” 

Mabel had meant to occupy the center of the 
stage herself, and here was I, Page Allison, 
knocked senseless for a moment by the fall, while 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


309 


Mabel was simply pulled off me by the infuri- 
ated Zebedee and left to shift for herself. Dum 
said she looked awfully silly as she got unaided 
to her feet. Of course I could see nothing, as 
I was so dazed by the fall that at first I lay with 
my eyes closed. In a moment the crowd of 
skaters had gathered, and Dee told me it was like 
a dog fight, everybody trying to see at once. 

“Page, little Page, are you dead?” were the 
first words that I heard, and Mr. Tucker’s face 
the first one I saw. 

“Dead ? I should say not ! I’m not even hurt. 
Let me get up,” and I caught hold of his ready 
hand and struggled to my feet. 

“She’s not hurt ! She’s all right !” he called to 
the anxious Tweedles who had been pushed back 
by the curious crowd, and he wiped the ever- 
ready tears from his eyes. Then the boys from 
Hill-Top gave me a yell, our especial yell that 
we sophomores used at moments of supreme vic- 
tory : 

“Ice cream — soda water — ginger ale, pop! 

Sophomores! Sophomores! Always on top!” 


310 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


“I wish I had been/’ I said ruefully; and there 
was a general laugh. 

A whistle from Gresham warned the girls that 
it was time to go back to the school, and in a 
short time the Hill-Top boys had to leave, all 
but Harvie and Shorty and the tutor, Mr. An- 
derson. 

We piled more brush on the fire that had been 
started to warm toes by, and in a little while 
we had a blaze that, as dusk came on, lighted up 
the whole lake and made up for the lack of a 
moon. 

I never saw such a wonderful lunch as Mr. 
Tucker had brought. There were sandwiches of 
all kinds; cream cheese and pimento, chicken, 
ham, tongue and lettuce. There was a great 
jar of chicken salad, beaten biscuit, cheese 
straws, olives, pickles and salted almonds, and 
a chocolate cake even larger than Dum’s so- 
called best hat that Mr. Tucker had sent for the 
Thanksgiving spread. 

“Bleat, my little goat, bleat, 

Cover the table with something to eat,” sang 
Dum. “Zebedee, you seem to me to be working 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


311 


magic. I don’t see how all those things could 
have been packed in that basket.” 

“If yours had been the task to 'tote’ it this far, 
you would have thought there was more than 
that in it,” he answered. 

“Well, ours will be the task to help ‘tote’ it 
back,” said Dee in tones muffled by cream cheese. 

The crowning wonder of the repast was some 
great thermos bottles that finally emerged from 
the bottom of the capacious basket. One was 
filled with hot coffee and the other with hot 
chocolate, and lying snugly by them was a jar 
of whipped cream. 

“Well, by the great jumping jingo, what 
next?” said Shorty. And then funny Mary 
Flannigan used her ventriloquist’s powers and 
made a noise exactly like a puppy trying to get 
out of something, and Shorty bit. He dived into 
the basket to the assistance of the imaginary 
canine ! 

The coffee and chocolate were smoking hot, in 
spite of the long journey they had taken. Mr. 
Tucker had made a clever calculation, also, as 


312 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL 


to the number of guests, so the drinkables just 
did go around. 

“I thought I heard Miss Binks say she was 
going to have supper with you,” said Harvie 
Price to Dum. 

“Ah, indeed! I fancy she did intend to, but 
after she made a hole in the ice with poor little 
Page, I reckon she forgot to wait for her invi- 
tation.” 

We ate up every crumb of that supper and 
the little birds who hoped to feast on what we 
left must have had but poor pickings. 

“We shan’t have to say: 

'Bleat, bleat, my little goat, I pray, 

And take the table quite away/ ” laughed 
Mr. Tucker. “If I had been twins instead of 
Tweedles, I’d have brought twice that much.” 

We had had enough, and much gayety and 
good-humored repartee had made it a very de- 
lightful party. Mr. Anderson proved very agree- 
able and made himself pleasant to everybody. 
Miss Cox was happy and full of fun, and even 
Annie Pore forgot to be shy and actually rolled 
Shorty in a patch of snow because he stole a 


WITH THE TUCKER TWINS 


313 


piece of chocolate cake, all icing, that she was 
saving for the last mouthful. 

Everything must have an end, even skating 
parties and books — but there will be more skat- 
ing parties and more books, too. 

On the way back to Gresham, Mr. Tucker di- 
vulged to us that he had a scheme for pleasure, 
and if we girls, one and all, studied hard, and 
if Miss Cox would promise to be as blind to our 
faults as she honorably could, we were all of us 
included in the scheme! He had engaged a cot- 
tage at Willoughby Beach for the month of July 
and there we were to camp out and live the sim- 
ple life. 

“Oh, how grand !” we gasped together. 

We had something to look forward to now and 
knew that the last half of the year would ffy 
by. We could hardly wait for the camping time 
to come, — and I just hope my readers are as anx- 
ious to hear about my “Vacation with the Tucker 
Twins” as I am anxious to tell them about it! 


the: e:nd. 











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